we might meet … and what would happen. Have you ever thought of that?"
"Always: everywhere … of that … and the children."
"Grace looks after them."
"I know. I get word. She is kind."
"You think of them?"
"Don't, Willy!"
He harked back. "Do you know, whenever I've thought of it … the chance of our meeting … I've wondered what I should say. Hundreds and hundreds of times I've made up my mind what to say. Why, only just now I've come from the theatre: I still go to the theatre sometimes: it's a splendid thing to distract your thoughts: takes you out of yourself—Frou-Frou, it was … the finest play in the world … next to East Lynne. It made me cry, to-night, and the people in the pit stared at me. But one mustn't be ashamed of a little honest emotion, before strangers. And when a thing comes home to a man … So you've thought of it too—the chance of our running against one another?"
"Every day and all the day long I've gone fearing it: especially in March and September, when I knew you'd be up in town buying for the season. All the day long I've gone watching the street ahead of me … watching in fear of you.…"
"But I never guessed it would happen like this." He stared up irritably, as though the lamp were
