“I didn’t mean to,” said Hilliard.  “I have lost control of myself, that’s all.  But you can say whatever you meant to say—­just as you would have done at the restaurant.  I’m the same man I was then.”

Eve moved a few steps, but he did not follow her, and she returned.  A policeman passing threw a glance at them.

“It’s no use asking what I meant to ask,” she said, with her eyes on the ground.  “You won’t grant it me.”

“How can I say till I know what it is?  There are not many things in my power that I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I was going to ask for money.”

“Money?  Why, it depends what you are going to do with it.  If it will do you any good, all the money I have is yours, as you know well enough.  But I must understand why you want it.”

“I can’t tell you that.  I don’t want you to give me money—­only to lend it.  You shall have it back again, though I can’t promise the exact time.  If you hadn’t changed so, I should have found it easy enough to ask.  Hut I don’t know you to-night; it’s like talking to a stranger.  What has happened to make you so different?”

“I have been waiting a long time for you, that’s all,” Hilliard replied, endeavouring to use the tone of frank friendliness in which he had been wont to address her.  “I got nervous and irritable.  I felt uneasy about you.  It’s all right now:  Let us walk on a little.  You want money.  Well, I have three hundred pounds and more.  Call it mine, call it yours.  But I must know that you’re not going to do anything foolish.  Of course, you don’t tell me everything; I have no right to expect it.  You haven’t misled me; I knew from the first that—­well, a girl of your age, and with your face, doesn’t live alone in London without adventures.  I shouldn’t think of telling you all mine, and I don’t ask to know yours—­unless I begin to have a part in them.  There’s something wrong:  of course, I can see that.  I think you’ve been crying, and you don’t shed tears for a trifle.  Now you come and ask me for money.  If it will do you good, take all you want.  But I’ve an uncomfortable suspicion that harm may come of it.”

“Why not treat me just like a man-friend?  I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

“You think so, but I know better.  Wait a moment.  How much money do you want?”

“Thirty-five pounds.”

“Exactly thirty-five?  And it isn’t for your own use?”

“I can’t tell you any more.  I am in very great need of the money, and if you will lend it me I shall feel very grateful.”

“I want no gratitude, I want nothing from you, Eve, except what you can’t give me.  I can imagine a man in my position giving you money in the hope that it might be your ruin just to see you brought down, humiliated.  There’s so much of the brute in us all.  But I don’t feel that desire.”

“Why should you?” she asked, with a change to coldness.  “What harm have I done you?”