"Don't you know anyone else who would come with you? Haven't you made any friends?"
"Not one. You and Miss Ringrose are the only persons I know in London."
"I can't understand why you live in that way."
"How should I make friends—among men? Why, it's harder than making money—which I have never done yet, and never shall, I'm afraid."
Eve averted her eyes, and again seemed to meditate.
"I'll tell you," pursued the young man "how the money came to me that I am living on now. It'll fill up the few moments while we are waiting."
He made of it an entertaining narrative, which he concluded just as the soup was laid before them. Eve listened with frank curiosity, with an amused smile. Then came a lull in the conversation. Hilliard began his dinner with appetite and gusto; the girl, after a few sips, neglected her soup and glanced about the neighboring tables.
"In my position," said Hilliard at length, "what would you have done?"
"It's a difficult thing to put myself in your position."
"Is it, really? Why, then, I will tell you something more of myself. You say that Mrs. Brewer gave me an excellent character?"