y find herself thinking with
anger. Yet it was not wholly anger, for she was also afraid and filled
with longing. Her anger was even obliterated by her love, so much did
she adore Toby's strength. His cruelty, his brutal indifference, were
spurs to her unreasoning affection. Whatever Toby might do, Sally loved
him. The love which she had believed herself indignantly to have cast
out was still paramount. Finally, in all her fleeting considerations of
the moment and the future, she could not ignore the baby which was
coming. She had no thought of it other than fear and loathing. Not yet
had desire for a child created in her mind a new longing. If she could
have killed it she would have done so; and she was prevented from
contemplating this possibility only by the ignorance which inexperience
and friendlessness imposed upon her. Sally was awed and terrified by the
gloom which gathered in her heart and about her. She sped onwards until
she reached the bridge, and here for several minutes she uncontrollably
paused. All was now black, and the tide had turned. Already the water
was flowing to the sea, and she could imagine the coagulated masses
vaguely swirling beneath her, borne unresisting upon the outgoing tide.
The hotel was in darkness, excepting for the room beneath the balcony
where the walls descended straight to the water and the mud. Here there
was a dim light. All above was sombre until she reached in her steady
upward glance the sky's faint background and saw its unfathomable arch
of grey.

The bar of the hotel was empty. Unperceived, Sally went upstairs and
into the bedroom where Gaga lay. She closed the door behind her and
switched on the electric light. To her surprise Gaga was lying on his
side, and his face was turned towards her.

"You awake?" she whispered. At his soft sound of greeting she went
forward and sat upon the bed. "It's half-past-four," Sally continued.
"Like some tea? Going to get up again?"

"I.... I'm so tired," murmured Gaga. He had taken her hand, and held it
to his cheek, so that Sally had to lean forward. In this mood he was so
like a child that Sally's heart softened. She found him pathetic, and
her own strength was emphasised by his weakness.

"Better stay in bed," she said.

"But you? Aren't you ... aren't you lonely?"

"Mm. Nobody here. Nothing to do. I been for a walk and got frightened."

"I'll get up. Yes, I will. After tea we'll walk along that av ...
avenue. In the moonligh