left once more
to face the dreary problem of the future. Her evening at the opera had
shown her the impossibility of remaining in New York. She had neither
the skill nor the power to fight the forces of indifference leagued
against her: she must get away at once, and try to make a fresh start.
But, as usual, the lack of money hampered her. Mr. Spragg could no
longer afford to make her the allowance she had intermittently received
from him during the first years of her marriage, and since she was now
without child or household she could hardly make it a grievance that he
had reduced her income. But what he allowed her, even with the addition
of her alimony, was absurdly insufficient. Not that she looked far
ahead; she had always felt herself predestined to ease and luxury, and
the possibility of a future adapted to her present budget did not occur
to her. But she desperately wanted enough money to carry her without
anxiety through the coming year.

When her breakfast tray was brought in she sent it away untouched and
continued to lie in her darkened room. She knew that when she got up she
must send back the pearls; but there was no longer any satisfaction
in the thought, and she lay listlessly wondering how she could best
transmit them to Van Degen.

As she lay there she heard Mrs. Heeny's voice in the passage. Hitherto
she had avoided the masseuse, as she did every one else associated with
her past. Mrs. Heeny had behaved with extreme discretion, refraining
from all direct allusions to Undine's misadventure; but her silence
was obviously the criticism of a superior mind. Once again Undine had
disregarded her injunction to "go slow," with results that justified the
warning. Mrs. Heeny's very reserve, however, now marked her as a safe
adviser; and Undine sprang up and called her in. "My sakes. Undine! You
look's if you'd been setting up all night with a remains!" the masseuse
exclaimed in her round rich tones.

Undine, without answering, caught up the pearls and thrust them into
Mrs. Heeny's hands.

"Good land alive!" The masseuse dropped into a chair and let the twist
slip through her fat flexible fingers. "Well, you got a fortune right
round your neck whenever you wear them, Undine Spragg."

Undine murmured something indistinguishable. "I want you to take them--"
she began.

"Take 'em? Where to?"

"Why, to--" She was checked by the wondering simplicity of Mrs. Heeny's
stare. The masseuse must know where the pe