“Somebody you know?”

“Yes, and hate.  Worse than that, I’m afraid of him.  Will you keep with me till he’s gone?”

“Of course I will.  What harm can he do you though?”

“None that I know of.  It’s a strange stupid feeling I have.  I can’t bear the sight of him.  Don’t look round!”

“Has he been a—­a friend of yours?”

“No, no; not in that way.  But he follows me about.  He’ll drive me out of London, I know.”

They had reached Piccadilly Circus.

“Look back now,” she said, “and see if he’s following still.”

Waymark turned his head; the man was at a little distance behind.  He stopped when be saw himself observed, and stood on the edge of the pavement, tapping his boot with his cane.  He was a tall and rather burly fellow, well dressed, with a clean-shaven face.

“Let’s make haste round the corner,” the girl said, “and get into the restaurant.  You must have some supper with me.”

“I should be very happy, had I a penny in my pocket.”

“See how easily good deeds are forgotten,” returned the other, laughing in the old way.  “Now comes my turn to give proof of generosity.  Come and have some supper all the same.”

“No; that’s out of the question.”

“Fiddlestick Surely you won’t desert me when I ask your protection?  Come along, and pay me back another time, if you like.”

They walked round the corner, then the girl started and ran at her full speed.  Waymark followed in the same way, somewhat oppressed by a sense of ridiculousness.  They reached the shelter of the restaurant, and the girl led the way upstairs, laughing immoderately.

Supper was served to them, and honoured with due attention by both.  Waymark had leisure to observe his companion’s face in clearer light.  It was beautiful, and, better still, full of character.

He presently bent forward to her, and spoke in a low voice.

“Isn’t this the man who followed us just coming in now?  Look, he has gone to the table on the right.”

She looked round hastily, and shuddered, for she had met the man’s eyes.

“Why did you tell me?” she exclaimed impatiently.  “Now I can’t finish my supper.  Wait till he has given his order, and then we will go.”

Waymark examined this mysterious persecutor.  In truth, the countenance was no good one, and a woman might well dislike to have such eyes turned upon her.  It was a strong face; coarse originally, and, in addition to the faults of nature, it now bore the plainest traces of hard living.  As soon as he perceived Waymark and his companion, he fixed them with his eyes, and scarcely looked away as long as they remained in the room.  The girl seemed shrinking under this gaze, though she sat almost with her back to him.  She ceased talking, and, as soon as she saw that Waymark had finished, made a sign to him to pay quickly (with a sovereign she pushed across the table) and let them be gone.  They rose, accordingly, and left.  The man watched them, but remained seated.