ould be seen climbing steeply up past walls covered with a shining paper cut by narrow red lines into small yellow squares。 An almanack； of so floral a design that nobody would surely want to steal it； hung on the wall； below it was an umbrella stand without umbrellas。 The dim little passage led past two grimly closed doors painted rusty red to two half…open doors with dull glass in their panels。 Outside； in the street from which they had mounted by stone steps； a shower of sleet had begun to fall。 Hilary shut the door； but the cold spirit of that shower had already slipped into the bleak； narrow house。
〃This is the apartment； m'm；〃 said the landlady； opening the first of the rusty…coloured doors。 The room； which had a paper of blue roses on a yellow ground； was separated from another room by double doors。
〃I let the rooms together sometimes； but just now that room's taken a young gentleman in the City； that's why I'm able to let this cheap。〃
Cecilia looked at Hilary。 〃I hardly think…〃
The landlady quickly turned the handles of the doors； showing that they would not open。
〃I keep the key；〃 she said。 〃There's a bolt on both sides。〃
Reassured； Cecilia walked round the room as far as this was possible； for it was practically all furniture。 There was the same little wrinkle across her nose as across Thyme's nose when she spoke of Hound Street。 Suddenly she caught sight of Hilary。 He was standing with his back against the door。 On his face was a strange and bitter look； such as a man might have on seeing the face of Ugliness herself； feeling that she was not only without him； but withina universal spirit； the look of a man who had thought that he was chivalrous； and found that he was not； of a leader about to give an order that he would not himself have executed。
Seeing that look； Cecilia said with some haste：
〃It's all very nice and clean； it will do very well； I think。 Seven shillings a week； I believe you said。 We will take it for a fortnight； at all events。〃
The first glimmer of a smile appeared on the landlady's grim face； with its hungry eyes； sweetened by patience。
〃When would she be coming in？〃 she asked。
〃When do you think； Hilary？〃
〃I don't know；〃 muttered Hilary。〃 The sooner the betterif it must be。 To…morrow； or the day after。〃
And with one look at the bed； covered by a piece of cheap red…and… yellow tasselled tapestry； he went out into the street。 The shower was over； but the house faced north； and no sun was shining on it。
CHAPTER XXII
HILARY PUTS AN END TO IT
Like flies caught among the impalpable and smoky threads of cobwebs； so men struggle in the webs of their own natures； giving here a start； there a pitiful small jerking； long sustained； and failing into stillness。 Enmeshed they were born； enmeshed they die； fighting according to their strength to the end； to fight in the hope of freedom； their joy； to die； not knowing they are beaten； their reward。 Nothing； too； is more to be remarked than the manner in which Life devises for each man the particular dilemmas most suited to his nature； that which to the man of gross； decided； or fanatic turn of mind appears a simple sum； to the man of delicate and speculative temper seems to have no answer。
So it was with Hilary in that special web wherein his spirit struggled； sunrise unto sunset； and by moonlight afterward。 Inclination； and the circumstances of a life which had never forced him to grips with either men or women； had detached him from the necessity for giving or taking orders。 He had almost lost the faculty。 Life had been a picture with blurred outlines melting into a softly shaded whole。 Not for years had anything seemed to him quite a case for 〃Yes〃 or 〃No。〃 It had been his creed； his delight； his business； too； to try and put himself in everybody's place； so that now there were but few places where he did not； speculatively speaking； feel at home。
Putting himself into the little model's place gave him but small delight。 Making due allowance for the sentiment men naturally import into their appreciation of the lives of women； his conception of her place was doubtless not so very wrong。
Here was a child； barely twenty years of age； country bred； neither a lady nor quite a working…girl； without a home or relatives； according to her own accountat all events； without those who were disposed to help herwithout apparently any sort of friend； helpless by nature； and whose profession required a more than common warinessthis girl he was proposing to set quite adrift again by cutting through the single slender rope which tethered her。 It was like digging up a little rose…tree planted with one's own hands in some poor shelter； just when it had taken root； and setting it where the full winds would beat against it。 To do so brusque and； as it seemed to Hilary； so inhumane a thing was foreign to his nature。 There was also the little matter of that touch of feverthe distant music he had been hearing since the waggons came in to Covent Garden。
With a feeling that was almost misery； therefore； he waited for her on Monday afternoon； walking to and fro in his study； where all the walls were white； and all the woodwork coloured like the leaf of a cigar； where the books were that colour too； in Hilary's special deerskin binding； where there were no flowers nor any sunlight coming through the windows； but plenty of sheets of papera room which youth seemed to have left for ever； the room of middle age！
He called her in with the intention of at once saying what he had to say； and getting it over in the fewest words。 But he had not reckoned fully either with his own nature or with woman's instinct。 Nor had he allowedbeing； for all his learning； perhaps because of it； singularly unable to gauge the effects of simple actionsfor the proprietary relations he had established in the girl's mind by giving her those clothes。
As a dog whose master has it in his mind to go away from him； stands gazing up with tragic inquiry in his eyes； scenting to his soul that coming crueltyas a dog thus soon to be bereaved； so stood the little model。
By the pose of every limb； and a fixed gaze bright as if tears were behind it； and by a sort of trembling； she seemed to say： 'I know why you have sent for me。'
When Hilary saw her stand like that he felt as a man might when told to flog his fellow…creature。 To gain time he asked her what she did with herself all day。 The little model evidently tried to tell herself that her foreboding had been needless。
Now that the mornings were niceshe said with some animationshe got up much earlier； and did her needlework first thing； she then 〃did out〃 the room。 There were mouse…holes in her room； and she had bought a trap。 She had caught a mouse last night。 She hadn't liked to kill it； she had put it in a tin box； and let it go when she went out。 Quick to see that Hilary was interested in this； as well he might be； she told him that she could not bear to see cats hungry or lost dogs； especially lost dogs； and she described to him one that she had seen。 She had not liked to tell a policeman； they stared so hard。 Those words were of strange omen； and Hilary turned his head away。 The little model； perceiving that she had made an effect of some sort； tried to deepen it。 She had heard they did all sorts of things to peoplebut； seeing at once from Hilary's face that she was not improving her effect； she broke off suddenly； and hastily began to tell him of her breakfast； of how comfortable she was now she had got her clothes； how she liked her room； how old Mr。 Creed was very funny； never taking any notice of her when he met her in the morning。 Then followed a minute account of where she had been trying to get work； of an engagement promised； Mr。 Lennard； too； still wanted her to pose to him。 At this she gashed a look at Hilary； then cast down her eyes。 She could get plenty of work if she began that way。 But she hadn't； because he had told her not； and； of course； she didn't want to； she liked coming to Mr。 Stone so much。 And she got on very well； and she liked London； and she liked the shops。 She mentioned neither Hughs nor Mrs。 Hughs。 In all this rigmarole； told with such obvious purpose； stolidity was strangely mingled with almost cunning quickness to see the effect made； but the dog…like devotion was never quite out of her eyes when they were fixed on Hilary。
This look got through the weakest places in what little armour Nature had bestowed on him。 It touched one of the least conceited and most amiable of men profoundly。 He felt it an honour that anything so young as this should regard him in that way。 He had always tried to keep out of his mind that which might have given him the key to her special feeling for himselfthose words of the painter of still life： 〃She's got a story of some sort。〃 But it flashed across him suddenly like an inspiration： If her story were the simplest of all storiesthe direct； rather brutal； love affair of a village boy and girlwould not she； naturally given to surrender； be forced this time to the very antithesis of that young animal amour which had brought on her such； sharp consequences？
But； wherever her devotion came fro