'I advise you to make a friend of her.

Who knows but you may live in London some day, and then she might be valuable--morally, I mean.

For myself, I shall do my best not to see her again for a long time; she's dangerous.' Jasper was unaccompanied when he went to the station.

Whilst waiting on the platform, he suffered from apprehension lest Alfred Yule's seamed visage should present itself; but no acquaintance approached him.

Safe in the corner of his third-class carriage, he smiled at the last glimpse of the familiar fields, and began to think of something he had decided to write for The West End..