“You know I would.”

“I don’t.”

“Try me.”

“I will not.”

Her voice grew more and more faint.

“Don’t go on like that, Alice. You’re not being reasonable,” pleaded Richard.

“Just leave me alone!”

“I won’t leave you.”

“As you please. It’s nothing to me.”

“Alice, why do you speak to me like that? Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Everything is wrong. Everybody is wrong. The whole world is wrong.”

Her voice was a little stronger. She raised herself and looked him in the face.

“Alice, if you won’t tell me what is the matter with you, if you won’t let me help you, I will sit down by you till the morning.”

“What if I drop?”

“Then I will carry you away.”

Her resolution to resist him seemed to break.

“I haven’t had anything to eat all day.”

“My poor girl! Promise me to wait till I come back. Here, put on my coat.”

She was past resisting more, and allowed him to button his coat about her.

But he was in great perplexity—where was he to get anything for her? And how was she to live till he brought it! It was terrible to think of! Alice with nothing to eat, and no refuge but a stone in the moonlight! This was what her religion had done for Alice!

He stood a moment hesitating. Alice swayed on her seat, and would have fallen. He caught her—and in the act remembered a little cottage, a hut rather, down a lane a short way off. He took her in his arms and started for it.

She was dreadfully thin, but a strong man cannot walk very fast carrying a woman, however light she be, and she had half come to herself before he reached the cottage.

“Richard, dear Richard!” she murmured at his ear, “where are you carrying me? Are you going to kill me, or are you taking me home with you? Do set me down. Where’s Arthur? I will let you be good to me! I will! I can’t hold out for ever!”

The cottage was a very poor place, but a labourer and his family lived in it. He knocked many times. A sleepy voice answered at last, and a sleepy-eyed man half opened the door.

“What the deuce?” he grunted.

“Here’s a young woman half dead with hunger and cold,” said Richard. “Can you take her in?”

“Can’t you take her somewhere else?”

“There is nowhere else near enough. Come, come, let us in, please. You wouldn’t have her die on your doorstep!”

“I don’t see the sense of bringing her here!” answered the man sleepily. “We’ve hardly got enough for ourselves. Wife! here’s a chap says he’s picked up a young woman dying of hunger—’tain’t likely!”