She was remembering it all so vividly as she sat, looking down on the street, that when Marcus appeared suddenly she felt for a second or two that he was part of her imaginings.

She stared down at him. He was strolling along the street, as though well pleased with himself. He had changed his elegant clothes for coat and breeches of worsted. How he angered her! The complacent fool! No doubt he was congratulating himself on a fine haul. Angrily she got to her feet. She would speak to him; she would tell him that he was a fool a ridiculous fool -nay, a criminal and a rogue, and she and her family had done with him.

She sped downstairs. There was no one in the parlour. Her mother had retired to bed; her father was probably working down in the basement and would not hear him. She was glad of that.

She opened the front door, and Marcus was standing there.

"Why... Miss Carolan!" he said.

"Indeed, yes!" she spoke severely.

"Pray come in. I would have a word with you.”

He looked alarmed.

"I trust I have not offended you.”

"Offended me! That is a mild way of expressing it.”

"You alarm me.”

"You should be alarmed! Speak quietly; I do not wish my father to hear. He would not have you in this house if he knew ..." She drew herself up to her full height she was almost as tall as he was and her eyes flashed in scorn.

"We have just returned from Vauxhall.”

"I trust you spent a pleasant time there.”

"A most pleasant time, until one incident spoiled the whole day for me!”

"I am sorry to hear that.”

She noticed with a grim satisfaction that he was shaken.

"And well you may be. Please lower your voice. Come over here behind these old clothes; they will muffle our voices.”

"It is you who are speaking loudly, Miss Carolan!" He smiled at her tenderly.

"My dear, how upset you are!”

"Upset!" She was finding it difficult to keep back the tears.

"I was sitting near a masked lady who lost her purse.”

"But why should you care so deeply for a masked lady's loss?”

"I saw you. Oh! You were elegant, a young gentleman of fashion, but I saw through your disguise! All the fine coats in the world would not deceive me into thinking you were anything but a thief! If my father knew, he would never allow you to set foot inside this house again.”

He stared down at his hands. He was guilty but unrepentant, disturbed only because he had been found out.

"You are a fool, Marcus," she hissed at him.

"Well I know it, Carolan.”

"Where do you think this life is leading you?"

 "Well, can any of us see the end of the road we are treading?”

"One day I shall retire from this life. Then I shall be a rich man, and the only way to be a safe man is to be a rich man. Did you know that, Carolan?”

"I know that the way to be unsafe is the way you are going, Marcus! I would not have believed it of you. Had you told me you had not taken the purse, I should have believed you.”

"But you said you saw!”

"I did not see you take it.”

"You did not see me take it!" There was relief in his eyes.

"I was afraid my hands had lost their cunning.”

She looked down at his long white hands.

"It is a pity you do not put them to a better purpose.”

"Carolan, do you despise me now?”

"I am deeply disappointed in you.”

"That is a pity. I had my dreams.”

"Dreams? What dreams?”

"Of the days of my safety... But what matter?”

She clasped her hands.

"Oh, Marcus, must you do these things?”

"I live by them, Carolan.”

"You live by robbery?”

"I have tried other methods.”

She pictured Everard's face then, cool, a little stern; she could hear his calm voice.

"A man's life," she said, quoting him, 'is surely what he makes it?”

"He has a hand in shaping his destiny certainly.”

"Well then...?”

"There are other considerations. There are people who are born in mansions; there are people born in Grape Street. It is not easy to be an honest man in Grape Street, Carolan.”

There was banter in his eyes, but they had lost some of their merriment.

"Carolan," he said, coming closer to her, "I would like to tell you what I have told no one else. Will you listen to me?”

"Of course.”

"I want to give you a brief outline of my life. I am wicked; I am a criminal; I am unworthy to be called your friend. That is the truth, but I would have you know how it is I have sunk so low. Perhaps, later on when I am a rich, safe man, I shall call upon you and your husband in your happy home. I should like to do that, Carolan. I should like to see if you are happy. The parson will accept me because he will not know the secrets of my past, and his wife will accept me because, I hope, she will understand why I took to such evil ways. That will warm my heart, Carolan, if she will understand.”

Carolan was silent, her heart beating rapidly. She was realizing now how fervently she had hoped he would deny all knowledge of the purse.

"I must make it brief, Carolan. But you must understand that I cannot convey everything in the short time I have. You must see beyond my words. You must visualize a happy childhood; you must see everything that was mine. A good home, tender parents, an excellent education ... right up to the time I was fourteen. Then my father died. My mother was a dear woman, a tender woman, but an unwise woman. A year after my father's death, she sought to replace him. My stepfather? Ah! What stories I could tell you of that man. But I waste my words. Suffice it that, in less than a year after that disastrous marriage, my mother was dead. Her money was his; I had nothing. He had arranged it so.

Sometimes I think he arranged her death. That sounds melodramatic, Carolan, but it is nevertheless true. I was alone; I was penniless. I stole some money from my stepfather and came to London. What dreams I had. You can well imagine what they were. I would make a fortune at the gaming-table, for were there not fortunes to be made in London! I will not harass you with my adventures; perhaps one day, in the secure, rich times ahead I may tell you. I will not tell you how I sank and sank. There is a life here in this great city of which I hope you will never know. I shall not tell you. Have you ever heard of a thieves' kitchen, Carolan? It is a place... they abound here... where one is taught to pick pockets. These hands of mine -sensitive, are they not?

Once they were to have been a musician's hands; now they are pickers of pockets. They learned well. Ah! I was as apt a pupil with a pocket as I ever was with the spinet. I was caught, Carolan." He paused to smile at her. Here "We can at least guide our footsteps upon the safest paths!”

He laid his hands on her shoulders.

"Why, you tremble, child! I am safe now; I am not such a fool as I was ... I shall not again be so easily caught. I am too wily now. The memory of that is too strong within me. You thought I was thirty, Carolan, and I am barely twenty-four. You see the lines about my face, do you not?

That is what transportation does to you, Carolan. That is what stifling in the stinking hold of a convict ship for months on end does for you, Carolan. Oh, Carolan ... Carolan, see me as I might have been had my father lived. A happy youth ... for twenty-four is not so very old. A young man of substance, a fit companion for you, Carolan. And see me now ... see me now.

See me as I should have been... not as life has made me!”

Her eyes were swimming with tears.

"You have suffered very much, Marcus. And I have hurt you; I am so stupid, so ignorant! There is so much I do not know.”

"And never shall know! I am sorry I had to speak of these things to you, Carolan. I would have it that you never knew of their existence.”

"Life is very cruel to some, Marcus.”

"It is also kind.”

"You can say that?”

"I can say it now, because I see that though I have told you so little, you have seen beyond my words. I see that when I come to that happy parsonage home I shall be welcomed in like an old friend.”

"You will," said Carolan.

"You will! But, Marcus, this is folly surely! To go on with this ... after that...”

His eyes lit up.

"The risk! The excitement! The adventure! And the hope, of course, that one day... one day ... I shall settle down to security; that is when my eyes are not so sharp and my hands not so quick. Tonight you have made me wonder if that day is not approaching!”

"Marcus, how I wish I could do something! Words are such inadequate things; it is easy to talk sympathy ... but I feel it, Marcus, I feel it.”

"You are right when you say words are inadequate; there can be so much behind them .. or just nothing at all. If! What a word! If my father had not died! If I had been an honest man, and if you had not been engaged to many a parson. Ah, Carolan! What a word it is!”

He had moved closer to her, and his eyes were brilliant.

"Oh, come!" she said coldly, for she was a little afraid of that passion in him.

"I know you well, Marcus; you have had many adventures of all kinds.

You seek adventure right and left; at Vauxhall Gardens and here in my father's shop among these musty old coats. Do not think I cannot understand.”

His hands hung at his sides, and a smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

"An adventurer! That is what you think of me, eh?”

"I fear so, Marcus. What would happen to you if they found the purse in your possession?”

He made a gesture to indicate the tying of a rope about his neck.

"Or," he added, "I might be sent back to Botany Bay.”

"Marcus, you have suffered a good deal. You would prefer the hanging?”

"Never! Life is sweet; it is only those who have been in danger of losing it who know how sweet. Carolan, but now you know this, what now?”

"I cannot say. But of one thing I am certain; you must give this up.

If you were caught, Marcus, if you were caught...”

"You would care so much?”

"One does not like to think of a friend with a noose about his neck!”

"You still think of me as a friend?”

"What rubbish you talk!”

"Carolan, I shall always remember.”

"And you will not... run these risks ?”

"I will think on it very seriously.”

"You have some money?”

"A little.”

"It is cheap, living in the country. You could work.”

He looked down at his hands, and grimaced.

"Perhaps there will be one very like you, Carolan.”

"I think you do not take this very seriously.”

"It is a mistake to take life seriously. Is it not by laughing at things serious that we render them ridiculous?"

 "I wish you had not lied about the handkerchief you stole from me.”

"I... lied?”

"You said it was the first offence.”

"Indeed it was!”

"And the purse? And the many, many others?”

Those were stolen from society, a society which is rotten and decayed, a society which made me what I am. The handkerchief was stolen from you.”

Then you are sorry for having stolen it?”

"I could wish that you had given it.”

"You anger me, Marcus. You are no fool; surely there are ways in which you could earn a living!”

"A man who returns from Botany Bay has not much chance, Carolan.”

"But surely, having taken your punishment...”

He smiled at her wistfully.

"Carolan, one day I shall tell you the story of my life. It will run into many chapters.”

"I shall look forward to hearing it. I want to understand. But in the meantime you frighten me ... What if...”

"Never fear, Carolan! I shall not be caught; I am too old a hand! It is not the hardened sinner who is most frequently caught, believe me!”

She shivered, and he went on softly: "Carolan, it is sweet to see you so concerned for me. I could almost be glad I am what I am, to so earn your sweet sympathy.”

She stamped her foot.

"How foolish you are! How ridiculous! I dislike that exaggerated talk, those honeyed compliments. You are glad you are a thief so that I can be sorry for you! I assure you I am not... not in the least, when you talk in that strain!”

"Now I adore you! Why is it that an angry woman can be so enchanting ... if she is beautiful? Of course an ugly angry woman is a vile object, but if she be beautiful... If, again, you see... that little word!”