I must take it all as a matter
of course.' She thought of Mr. Purcey's face--'that person!'--if he
could have seen her at this moment turning her back on comfort. 'The
moment I get there,' she mused, 'I shall let mother know; she can come
out to-morrow, and see for herself. I can't have hysterics about my
disappearance, and all that. They must get used to the idea that I mean
to be in touch with things. I can't be stopped by what anybody thinks!'

An approaching motor-car brought a startled frown across her brow. Was
it 'that person'? But though it was not Mr. Purcey and his A.i. Damyer,
it was somebody so like him as made no difference. Thyme uttered a
little laugh.

In the Park a cool light danced and glittered on the trees and water,
and the same cool, dancing glitter seemed lighting the girl's eyes.

The cabman, unseen, took an admiring look at her. 'Nice little bit,
this!' it said.

'Grandfather bathes here,' thought Thyme. 'Poor darling! I pity everyone
that's old.'

The cab passed on under the shade of trees out into the road.

'I wonder if we have only one self in us,' thought Thyme. 'I sometimes
feel that I have two--Uncle Hilary would understand what I mean. The
pavements are beginning to smell horrid already, and it's only June
to-morrow. Will mother feel my going very much? How glorious if one
didn't feel!'

The cab turned into a narrow street of little shops.

'It must be dreadful to have to serve in a small shop. What millions of
people there are in the world! Can anything be of any use? Martin says
what matters is to do one's job; but what is one's job?'

The cab emerged into a broad, quiet square.

'But I'm not going to think of anything,' thought Thyme; 'that's fatal.
Suppose father stops my allowance; I should have to earn my living as a
typist, or something of that sort; but he won't, when he sees I mean it.
Besides, mother wouldn't let him.'

The cab entered the Euston Road, and again the cabman's broad face was
turned towards Thyme with an inquiring stare.

'What a hateful road!' Thyme thought. 'What dull, ugly, common-looking
faces all the people seem to have in London! as if they didn't care for
anything but just to get through their day somehow. I've only seen two
really pretty faces!'

The cab stopped before a small tobacconist's on the south side of the
road.

'Have I got to live here?' thought Thyme.

Through the open door a narrow passage led to a narrow staircase
covered