at. She got some food, automatically, at a hotel
near the quay, and automatically made her way to the boat when the time
came. A dull sense of something irrevocable,--something
horrible,--overshadowed her. But the 'will to conquer' in her was as
iron; and, as in the Prussian conscience, left no room for pity or
remorse.

CHAPTER XIII

A psychologist would have found much to interest him in Bridget
Cookson's mental state during the days which followed on her journey to
France. The immediate result of that journey was an acute sharpening of
intelligence, accompanied by a steady, automatic repression of all those
elements of character or mind which might have interfered with its free
working. Bridget understood perfectly that she had committed a crime,
and at first she had not been able to protect herself against the normal
reaction of horror or fear. But the reaction passed very quickly.
Conscience gave up the ghost. Selfish will, and keen wits held the
field; and Bridget ceased to be more than occasionally uncomfortable,
though a certain amount of anxiety was of course inevitable.

She did not certainly want to be found out, either by Nelly or the
Farrells; and she took elaborate steps to prevent it. She wrote first a
long letter to Howson giving her reasons for refusing to believe in his
tentative identification of the man at X---- as George Sarratt, and
begging him not to write to her sister. 'That would be indeed _cruel_.
She can just get along now, and every month she gets a little stronger.
But her heart, which was weakened by the influenza last year, would
never stand the shock of a fearful disappointment. Please let her be. I
take all the responsibility. That man is not George Sarratt. I hope you
may soon discover who he is.'

Step No. 2 was to go, on the very morning after she arrived in London,
to the Enquiry Office in A---- Street. Particulars of the case in France
had that morning reached the office, and Bridget was but just in time to
stop a letter from Miss Eustace to Nelly. When she pointed out that she
had been over to France on purpose to see for herself, that there was no
doubt at all in her own mind, and that it would only torment a frail
invalid to no purpose to open up the question, the letter was of course
countermanded. Who could possibly dispute a sister's advice in such a
case? And who could attribute the advice to anything else than sisterly
affection!

Meanwhile among the mountains