once a bike-cleaning workman, who was now
topping the bill at Berlin and making as much money by himself as a whole
program put together. He would receive her kindly, she was sure of that.
Oh and then she wanted to tell him that she had had nothing to do with
that business of the patents ... that she did not approve of Trampy's
conduct ...! And then he could give her news of Pa and Ma, as he had come
from London, where he must have seen them! And she was dying to know! The
idea was increasing with her that life with Trampy had become impossible.
And, in case she should leave him, she dreaded finding herself alone.
Already there were all those offers being made to her, a married woman,
driving her mad! She, Lily Clifton, was treated like a "Parisienne": she
hated that sort! To walk about the stage, two by two, might pass; but it
was possible to go too far, like the conductor of the orchestra, who, the
other day, tried to kiss her in her dressing-room, married woman though
she was! Then what would it be when she traveled alone! On the continent,
too! Oh, she would have liked to be a good little wife! But, as that could
not be, better go back to her Pa and Ma and have a home, a real one, with
a servant in it. She was yearning for a home. But how would she be
received in that case? Would they put the blame on her? Had they forgiven
her? Had she a Pa and Ma still? That was what she wanted to know.

Lily would have liked to look handsome and elegant on the day when she
went to Jimmy, so as to show him that he was not the only one who made a
lot of money; but she felt very small and terribly excited. The hotel
itself, the great clock, the waiters, everything made an impression on
her, so different from her boarding-house in the Akerstrasse. She felt
like running away after knocking at his door; and Jimmy opened it with the
preoccupied air of a man who is disturbed at an inconvenient moment. But
suddenly he put out his hand in hearty greeting:

"Hullo, Lily! Come in."

Lily entered a bright sitting-room, neatly furnished with a sofa and
comfortable chairs; no bed; a room which served only for that. She at once
felt more at her ease. Jimmy motioned her to a seat near a table covered
with papers, full of marks and signs which she did not understand, and
books, rulers and compasses. She tried to be simple and dignified;
apologized for interrupting him:

"Brain-work, I see," she said, pointing to the papers. "That's hard, too,
I