The latter had already made an engagement for the afternoon; but, all the same, she accepted Shiel’s invitation.

“Will you do me a favour?” he asked.

“If it is anything that lies in my power,” she said.  “What is it?”

“I want you to find out how Hamar works his spells.  I asked you before?”

“I know you did and I’ve not forgotten,” Lilian said, “but I have to be very careful.  I’ve played the part of eavesdropper once or twice, and heard enough to confirm me in my suspicions that Hamar is in touch with evil, occult powers.  I’ve heard him praying aloud to them on more than one occasion, and I’ve also a shrewd idea he performs, at least, some of his spells by means of wax images.  But why do you want to know?”

“Only curiosity.  I am intensely interested in the occult.”

“You don’t want to start a rival show, do you?” Lilian asked jestingly.

“With a maximum capital of two pounds—­and a minimum of knowledge!” Shiel laughed.  “Hardly.  I wish I could.  I would offer you the post of manageress.”

“Partner!”

“Well, partner, if you like.  Would you take it?”

“Perhaps!” she said, looking at him with a sudden shyness.  “What a pity you are not rich.  Can’t you get a post that would bring you in about L200 a year for a start?  I believe you really want something to stimulate you, to make you work in grim earnest—­then you would succeed.  There’s grit in you—­I love grit—­but at present it’s latent, it wants bringing out.”

“You are very kind,” Shiel said, “but I’m afraid I’m a hopeless case, and, being such, have no business to be in your company.  Will you come to the theatre with me?”

“The theatre!  When you’ve no business to be in my company, and when it is as much as you can do to pay the rent of a back attic!”

“Oh, never mind that.  I’ve had tickets given me.  I’ve been doing odd bits of journalism lately, and a dramatic critic I know has given me two stalls at the Imperial!”

“The Imperial!” Lilian Rosenberg ejaculated.  “That’s where Gladys Martin is acting, surely!  I can’t bear her!”

“She’s not the only person in the cast,” Shiel observed drily, “and the play’s a good one!  Do come!”

With a little more persuasion Shiel gained her consent; and both he and she enjoyed the play, or more correctly speaking, the occasion, immensely.  So long as Gladys was on the stage Shiel’s eyes never once left her; whilst throughout the performance Lilian Rosenberg saw only Shiel, thought only of Shiel.  The interest she had taken in him, the interest she had so confidently asserted was only interest, had grown apace—­had grown out of all recognition.  It needed only a fillip now to convert that interest into something warmer; and the fillip was not long in coming.