d to be alive. She could not help
exulting in the dreadful moment.

She closed the sash and began to dress, seldom glancing at Louis,
who slept and dreamed and muttered. When she was dressed she looked
carefully in the drawer where he deposited certain articles from his
pockets, in order to find the bundle of notes left by Julian. In vain!
Then she searched for his bunch of keys (which ultimately she found
in one of his pockets) and unlocked his private drawer. The bundle
of notes lay there. She removed it, and hid it away in one of her
own secret places. After she had made preparations to get ready some
invalid's food at short notice, she went downstairs.

VII

She went downstairs without any definite purpose--merely because
activity of some kind was absolutely necessary to her. The clock
in the lobby showed dimly a quarter past five. In the chilly twilit
kitchen the green-lined silver-basket lay on the table in front of the
window, placed there by a thoughtful and conscientious Mrs. Tams. On
the previous morning Rachel had given very precise orders about the
silver (as the workaday electro-plate was called), but owing to the
astounding events of the day the orders had not been executed. Mrs.
Tams had evidently determined to carry them out at an early hour.

Rachel opened a cupboard and drew forth the apparatus for cleaning.
She was intensely fatigued, weary, and seemingly spiritless, but she
began to clean the silver--at first with energy and then with serious
application. She stood at the table, cleaning, as she had stood there
when Louis came into her kitchen on the night of the robbery; and she
thought of his visit and of her lost bliss, and the tears fell
from her eyes on the newspaper which protected the whiteness of the
scrubbed table. She would not think of the future; could not. She went
on cleaning, and that silver had never been cleaned as she cleaned it
then. She cleaned it with every attribute of herself, forgetting her
fatigue. The tears dried on her cheek. The faithful, scrupulous work
either drugged or solaced her. Just as she was finishing, Mrs. Tarns,
with her immense bodice unfastened, came downstairs, apronless. The
lobby clock struck six.

"Eh, missis!" breathed Mrs. Tams. "What's this?"

Rachel gave a nervous laugh.

"I was up. Mr. Fores was asleep, and I had to do something, so I
thought--"

"Has he had a good night, ma'am?"

"Fair. Yes, pretty good. I must run up and see if he is