'What's the use? It only makes me more miserable to see you, though I can't help being glad I have seen you this once.'
'But I must try to do something for you. I think I've some sort of right to help you, Alice.'
'But I've no right to be helped by you. Besides, I really don't need help. I have all I want. I'd much better not see you again.'
'Well, I mean to see you again, anyway. I shall be in London for some time. When shall I see you?'
'Not at all.'
'Nonsense!' he said, authoritatively. 'You must promise to write, at any rate, or I shall come down here and wait from eight to eleven every evening till I see you.'
'Very well. I'll write, then. Good-bye!'
'But how can you write? You don't know my address. Here's my card;' and he scribbled the address in pencil. 'It's a promise, Alice. You'll write and you'll see me again?'
'Yes, yes; good-bye;' and she turned to leave him.