Fleda, downstairs, learned soon enough what this was. It was simply that, as he announced the moment he stood before her, he was now all right. When she asked him what he meant by that state he replied that he meant he could practically regard himself henceforth as a free man: he had had at West Kensington, as soon as they got into the street, such a horrid scene with Mrs. Brigstock. Fleda felt the full need of giving a reason for her departure; but at first she only said with cheerful frankness: "I departed."!

"Well, then, let him take the only way to get it satisfied." "Well, was it I, pray, who perpetrated the wrong? Ain't I doing what I can to get the thing arranged?"

"At the West Kensington station—she was going to Victoria. I had walked with her there, and our talk was all on the way." Fleda looked this inquiry in the face only long enough to recognize that, in her embarrassment, she must take instant refuge in a superior one. "I can answer that better if I know how kind to her you've been. Have you been kind to her?" she asked as simply as she could. Fleda was silent a little. "What do you know about his 'loving' me?"