ain lost hope. The baby would ruin everything. Finally the return of
Toby seemed to her to be the first necessity. She must see him. She
could do nothing until she saw him. Longing seized her--a quick sense
that at least he was her lover, and therefore her partner. She wrote to
Toby, asking him to come and meet her as soon as he reached London. Then
she waited, her exhausted torments having left her in a mood of
glittering-eyed sullen misery that might at any moment rise sharply to
angry shrillness. Calm hid genuine fear, and it was the calm of one who
has no hope other than self-control.

Gradually Sally came to know the big house in exact detail, because in
these days she was forced to find occupation for herself. The
drawing-room, the dining-room, all the rooms upstairs, were ransacked.
They held no treasures, indeed; but they gave Sally a rather distracting
interest because they aroused her sense of possession. She had wanted to
own things--and these, although they were not what she had pictured,
were property. There was the beginning of bourgeoise acquisitiveness
and pride of ownership in her, after all. Scratch the worker and you
found the bourgeoise. There were carefully-hoarded lengths of rich
material in the cupboards, lace and ribbons and shawls in different
chests of drawers; upon Madam's dressing-table was a manicure set and a
set of tortoiseshell-backed brushes; in the drawers of the same table
were perfumes in great variety. Far below stairs, Sally found the wine
cellar, and although it was small in size it contained more kinds of
wine than she had been able to imagine hitherto, and filled her with an
almost grinning satisfaction. Not yet was her sense of social ambition
roused; but it was born. She began to look ahead. Parties, with the wine
as a feature of them, were imagined. She began, in a manner, to picture
what she would lose by defeat. The baby would ruin all. And she was
helpless, because she could speak to nobody. She was condemned. There
would be ruin, dreadful ruin, and she was glimpsing the very things
which she might have enjoyed. Fresh paroxysms shook Sally.
Somehow--somehow, and by some means not as yet to be discovered, she
must save the situation. And Toby must save her. Toby must find a way.
He must do it because he loved her. It was his duty. He _must_ find a
way to save her. And even as she frantically said this, Sally knew that
she herself must control the situation. Thus early in her