'Then leave it to me.... The chief thing is your work, Charles. That
is all of you that matters.'

This was entirely Charles's view of himself, and, as he could not see,
yet, the effect of the intrusion of Kitty upon the brave girl who had
so childishly accepted his childishness he was unperturbed and free
from all anxiety.... So far his new career in London had been a
triumphant success, and it seemed to him incredible that it could be
checked by such a trifle as a forgotten wife. He thought of the money
that should come from the Imperium: money meant power, power meant the
removal of all disagreeable obstacles from his path. He licked his
lips.... England understood money and nothing else. He would talk to
England in her own language and when he had caught her attention he
would speak his own.... Things were going so splendidly: a man like
himself was not going to be upset by trifles. He had worked in exile
for so long: surely, surely he would be able to reap his reward.

Clara meanwhile was shocked almost out of her youth. She did not weep.
There were no tears in her eyes in which there slowly gathered a fierce
expression of passionate pain. The bloom of youth was on her cheeks,
upon her lips, in all her still unformed features, but in her eyes
suddenly was the knowledge of years, concentrated, tyrannous, and
between this knowledge and her will there was set up a remorseless
conflict, from which she found relief only in a new gaiety and love of
fun.

It was impossible to discuss the matter any further with Charles, and
without a word to him she went away to Miss Wainwright's flat. That
good creature took her in without a word, without even a mute
curiosity. People's troubles were their own affair, and she knew that
they needed to be alone with them. She gave Clara her bedroom and
absented herself as much as possible, and kept Freeland out of the way.

The flat was luxuriously but monstrously furnished. Its frank, opulent
ugliness was a relief to the girl after the rarefied atmosphere of
aesthetics in which for three years she had lived with Charles, upon
whom all her thoughts were still concentrated. Of herself she had no
thought. It did not concern her what she was called: wife or mistress.
She was Clara Day and would remain so whatever happened to her. She
had forced Charles to marry her in order to protect him and to help
him, and she had brought him into danger of imprisonment.... It was