believed that he knew she had been lying;
but she had been caught unawares, and could not retract her assertions.
Without a further word she began to prepare a basin of water, and washed
herself. Then she went to ask that tea might be brought to the bedroom.
They drank the tea in silence, both very grave. When they had finished,
Sally took the tray to the end of the passage, where there was a
projecting ledge, and then returned to the room.

"Shall I go and sing to you?" she asked.

"Not ... not now. Go for your wa ... walk. I shan't have any dinner.
I'll just have a cup of cocoa."

Cocoa! Sally was transfixed.

"Oh, not _cocoa_!" she cried. "Not _cocoa_!" It was a desperate appeal.
It came from the depths of her heart. She had been alarmed at his
speech. She had been afraid of what he might do. But more than all she
was afraid of the horrible voice that had followed fear with its
imaginings of the means to her own salvation. At his further silence,
she went quickly out of the room and out of the hotel. She walked at a
rapid pace along the avenue, where others also were walking, as it was a
favourite promenade; and she found herself shaking with emotion as the
result of the disclosure which Gaga had made. He knew. He _knew_. What
did he know? And what would he do? Sally laughed hysterically. Oh, let
him do it _soon_! It was suspense that she could not bear. It was the
ghastly sense of muddle and falsehood that was oppressing her now.
Death--punishment--these were things of indifference. It was the fear of
either that made her torture. To know the worst, to face it, to suffer
for all she had done that was wrong, would satisfy her. But to be kept
in this horrible suspense much longer would send her mad. Why had she
not told Gaga the truth? She began hysterically to condemn herself. She
should have told him the truth. She should have said that Toby was an
old lover, jealous, angry, threatening. Now she could not tell any such
tale, because she had denied that a man had used her name. To confess
would make him disbelieve anything she ever said. Sally shrugged. He did
not believe her now. He would never believe her. Once he was well he
would find out everything. He would suspect her. He would persecute her
with suspicions. He would suspect that she was going to have a baby. He
would suspect ... he would _know_....

Creeping, creeping into Sally's mind came temptation. She walked more
swiftly until she reached a part of