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he advised. He wrote a prescription, which he said he would
leave at the nearest chemist’s, and he impressed upon her
the necessity of taking her medicine with the utmost regu-
larity. Getting up to go, he held out his hand.
‘Don’t be downhearted, you’ll soon get over your throat.’
But as he went her face became suddenly distorted, and
she caught hold of his coat.
‘Oh, don’t leave me,’ she cried hoarsely. ‘I’m so afraid,
don’t leave me alone yet. Phil, please. There’s no one else I
can go to, you’re the only friend I’ve ever had.’
He felt the terror of her soul, and it was strangely like that
terror he had seen in his uncle’s eyes when he feared that
he might die. Philip looked down. Twice that woman had
come into his life and made him wretched; she had no claim
upon him; and yet, he knew not why, deep in his heart was a
strange aching; it was that which, when he received her let-
ter, had left him no peace till he obeyed her summons.
‘I suppose I shall never really quite get over it,’ he said to
himself.
What perplexed him was that he felt a curious physical
distaste, which made it uncomfortable for him to be near
her.
‘What do you want me to do?’ he asked.
‘Let’s go out and dine together. I’ll pay.’
He hesitated. He felt that she was creeping back again
into his life when he thought she was gone out of it for ever.
She watched him with sickening anxiety.
‘Oh, I know I’ve treated you shocking, but don’t leave me
alone now. You’ve had your revenge. If you leave me by my-

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