Her eyebrows were interrogative.
"Yes, I have stopped you from meeting this Pepper person. I know your motives. I don't believe in the vanity at all. It is natural to be pleased when one's work is praised; I'm always pleased if anybody likes my music. I do believe that you were actuated solely by your kindness of heart and nothing else. But you were doing an indiscreet thing, and I feel sure from his letters that this man would have misunderstood it. Even if he had not shown presumption in his manner to you, I am sure he would have talked you over afterwards at his disgusting boarding-house and with his fellow-clerks. Why did he propose a meeting at all? Why could he not have submitted his doggerel to you by post, if you were kind enough to look at it for him? Why did he suggest this red rose nonsense if he had not got some romantic ideas in his stupid head? The man's impertinence simply staggers me."
She smiled a little. "You are right perhaps. It was indiscreet. But you are too hard on him."
"I don't think so. I want you to promise me you will not meet him. You can write and say that you have changed your mind; he can post his verses to you, if you want to let him down easily."
"Very well. I think that would be best, though I don't know why I should promise you. Good-bye."
"Already?"
"I live away at Surbiton. I have a train to catch."
"Am I forgiven?"
"Yes; quite."
"Then let me at least take you as far as Waterloo."