He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. Arrived within a short distance of his destination, he came to a halt, and pointing out a dark court nearly opposite the woollen-draper's abode, told the chairmen to wait there till they were summoned. ” It was significant of her influence over him that he answered her calmly, although a storm of angry thoughts were struggling for expression within him. She had lost her sense of direction, and was among unfamiliar streets. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. . The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. E. She attended to that, and then dismissed it as unimportant. Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street.
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