owson had business with house agents
and furniture removers, for he would not let a day go by without some
practical step towards release from the life he detested. Monica seemed
to be equally active in her own department; she was turning out drawers
and wardrobes, and making selection of things--on some principle
understood by herself. A flush remained upon her cheeks, in marked
contrast to the pallor which for a long time had given her an
appearance of wasting away. That and her singularly bright eyes endowed
her with beauty suggestive of what she might have gained in happy
marriage.

The had luncheon at one o'clock, and at a quarter to two Monica started
by train for Clapham Junction. It was her purpose to have a short
conversation with Virginia, who knew of the trip to Clevedon, and to
speak as though she were quite reconciled to the thought of removal;
after that, she would pursue her journey so as to reach Bayswater by
four o'clock. But Virginia was not at home. Mrs. Conisbee said she had
gone out at eleven in the morning, and with the intention of returning
by teatime. After a brief hesitation Monica requested the landlady to
deliver a message.

'Please ask her not to come to Herne Hill until she hears from me, as I
am not likely to be at home for a day or two.'

This left more time at her disposal than she knew how to employ. She
returned to the railway station, and travelled on to Victoria; there,
in the corner of a waiting-room, she sat, feverishly impatient, until
her watch told her that she might take the next train westward.

A possible danger was before her--though perhaps she need not trouble
herself with the thought of such dangers. What if Mr. Barfoot happened
to encounter her as she ascended the stairs? But most likely he had no
idea that her female friends, who dwelt on the floor above him, were
gone away. Did it matter what he might think? In a day or two--

She came to the street, approached the block of flats, involuntarily
casting anxious glances about her. And when she was within twenty yards
of the door, it opened, and forth came Barfoot. Her first sensation was
unreasoning terror; her next, thankfulness that she had not been a few
minutes sooner, when the very meeting she had feared, within the
building itself, would have come to pass. He walked this way; he saw
her; and the pleasantest smile of recognition lit up his face.

'Mrs. Widdowson! Not a minute ago you were in my thoughts. I wis