I did not wish to force your confidence, indeed I did not. I
never thought of such a thing. I am so sorry."
His remorse was evidently genuine, and Beatrice felt somewhat appeased.
Perhaps it did not altogether grieve her to learn that she could make
him feel sorry.
"You did not force my confidence," she said defiantly, quite forgetting
that a moment before she had reproached him for making her speak.
"I told you because I did not choose that you should think I was not
speaking the truth--and now let us change the subject." She imposed no
reserve on him as to what she had revealed; she knew that there was no
necessity to do so. The secret would be between them--another dangerous
link.
Beatrice recovered her composure and they walked slowly on.
"Tell me, Mr. Bingham," she said presently, "how can a woman earn her
living--I mean a girl like myself without any special qualifications?
Some of them get on."
"Well," he answered, "that depends upon the girl. What sort of a living
do you mean? You are earning a living now, of a kind."
"Yes, but sometimes, if only I could manage it, I think that I should
like to get away from here, and take another line, something bigger.
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