I said, "Suppose the blackguard who annoyed you should be waiting outside the gates?" That decided her. She took my arm. We went away together by the bank of the Thames, in the balmy summer night.
A walk of half an hour brought us to the house in which she lodged--a shabby little house in a by-street, inhabited evidently by very poor people.
She held out her hand at the door, and wished me good-night. Iwas too much interested in her to consent to leave my little foreign lady without the hope of seeing her again. I asked permission to call on her the next day. We were standing under the light of the street-lamp. She studied my face with a grave and steady attention before she made any reply.
"Yes," she said at last. "I think I do know a gentleman when Isee him. You may come, sir, if you please, and call upon me to-morrow."So we parted. So I entered--doubting nothing, foreboding nothing--on a scene in my life which I now look back on with unfeigned repentance and regret.
III.