ht. Eight o'clock. Marble Arch.
Eight o'clock, or a bit after. I might be kept a little late."

To her inexpressable thankfulness, Toby rather grumblingly agreed.

"We'll go to the pictures," he said. "There's a picture house there."

"Wherever you like. Toby, I _must_ go."

They kissed long and passionately; and when Sally was alone, sitting in
the tramcar on its way to Holborn, she found that she was trembling from
head to foot. She was in consternation, and prevented from crying only
by the steadily inquisitive stare of a stout woman opposite. Sally had
never been so afraid, so distraught. She had never been in such a
bewildering and terrifying difficulty. She was only half conscious.

vii

And when she reached the hotel their sitting-room was in darkness. Gaga
had evidently been home, for the evening paper had been thrown upon the
floor, and his hat and coat were upon one of the chairs. Sally
remembered what she had told her mother, and went quickly to the bedroom
door. It was true. Gaga lay groaning in bed, and there was a faint smell
of sickness in the air. Sally instinctively recoiled, and went back into
the sitting-room. Her hands came together and jerked in a gesture of
despair. Everything was against her. The white face was whiter; the
mischievous eyes were sombre. She was a lonely and frightened child
without any support in her life. She was too young, in spite of her
vivacity, to endure such trials unbroken; and in this situation she was
overwhelmed.

With her hands to her mouth, Sally stumbled to the hearthrug, and bowed
her head against the arm of a chair. Painful sobs shook her body.

"Oh, I wish I was dead! I wish I was dead!" she wailed.

In that moment of lost hope she was faced only with the impossibility of
dealing with all her trials. She had been over-excited, and she was
desperate. Everything had gone wrong. She was thus early face to face
with the consequences of her own blithe and over-confident actions; and
the consequences threatened disaster. Death would really at this moment
have seemed better than the effort she must make to grapple with her
problems. It would have been so much easier, and she was without
courage. Afraid lest her sobs might arouse Gaga and bring him groaning
to her side, she stifled them. But they made her body heave for a long
time, until at last with tear-filled eyes she stared at the fire, and
knew that the fit was over.

What was Sally to do? There was the