As proved to be the case.  Presently the door opened, and a voice called to him in a whisper.  He obeyed the summons, and, not without stumbling, followed Patty into the open air.

“She hasn’t come yet.”

“What’s the time?”

“Half-past eleven.  I shall sit up for her.  Did you hear what my uncle said?  You mustn’t think anything of that; he’s always finding fault with people.”

“Do you think she will come at all?” asked Hilliard.

“Oh, of course she will!”

“I shall wait about.  Don’t stand here.  Good-night.”

“You won’t let her know what I’ve told you?” said Patty, retaining his hand.

“No, I won’t.  If she doesn’t come back at all, I’ll see you to-morrow.”

He moved away, and the door closed.

Many people were still passing along the street.  In his uncertainty as to the direction by which Eve would return—­if return she did —­Hilliard ventured only a few yards away.  He had waited for about a quarter of an hour, when his eye distinguished a well-known figure quickly approaching.  He hurried forward, and Eve stopped before he had quite come up to her.

“Where have you been to-night?” were his first words, sounding more roughly than he in tended.

“I wanted to see you, I passed your lodgings and saw there was no light in the windows, else I should have asked for you.”

She spoke in so strange a voice, with such show of agitation, that Hilliard stood gazing at her till she again broke silence,

“Have you been waiting here for me?”

“Yes.  Patty told me you weren’t back.”

“Why did you come?”

“Why do I ever come to meet you?”

“We can’t talk here,” said Eve, turning away.  “Come into a quieter place.”

They walked in silence to the foot of High Street, and there turned aside into the shadowed solitude of Mornington Crescent.  Eve checked her steps and said abruptly—­

“I want to ask you for something.”

“What is it?”

“Now that it comes to saying it, I—­I’m afraid.  And yet if I had asked you that evening when we were at the restaurant——­”

“What is it?” Hilliard repeated gruffly.

“That isn’t your usual way of speaking to me.”

“Will you tell me where you have been tonight?”

“Nowhere—­walking about——­”

“Do you often walk about the streets till midnight?”

“Indeed I don’t.”

The reply surprised him by its humility.  Her voice all but broke on the words.  As well as the dim light would allow, he searched her face, and it seemed to him that her eyes had a redness, as if from shedding tears.

“You haven’t been alone?”

“No—­I’ve been with a friend.”

“Well, I have no claim upon you.  It’s nothing to me what friends you go about with.  What were you going to ask of me?”

“You have changed so all at once.  I thought you would never talk in this way.”