e had been on board the yacht. The
hesitation caused her to linger, as the cold air had caused her to
think. It was as though she feared that when he was found the man would
be impudent to her, and leer, behaving familiarly as he might have done
to a common woman. Because she was alone and unprotected. It was
terrible. Her secret filled her with the sense of irremediable guilt.
Already she was staled with the evening's excitement. She stopped and
wavered, her shadow, so black and small, hesitating as she did. Could
she walk home? She looked at the black houses, and listened to the
terrifying sinister roar that continued faintly to fill the air. Could
she go by tram? If she did--whatever she did--the man might wait for her
all night, and Keith would know how cowardly she had been. It might even
come to the ears of Lord Templecombe, and disgrace Keith before him. To
go or to stay was equally to bring acute distress upon herself, the
breathless shame of being thought disgraced for ever. Already it seemed
to her that the shadows were peopled with observers ready to spy upon
her, to seize her, to bear her away into hidden places...

At last, her mind resolved by her fears, which crowded upon her in a
tumult, Jenny stepped fearfully forward. The car was there, dimly
outlined, a single light visible to her eye. It was drawn upon at the
side of the street; and the chauffeur was fast asleep, his head upon his
arms, and his arms spread upon the steering-wheel.

"I say!" cried Jenny in a panic, her glance quickly over her shoulder at
unseen dangers. "Wake up! Wake up!"

She stepped into the car, and it began to quiver with life as the engine
was started. Then, as if drowned in the now familiar scent of the
hanging bouquet, Jenny lay back once more in the soft cushions; bound
for home, for Emmy and Alf and Pa; her evening's excursion at an end,
and only its sequel to endure.

PART THREE

MORNING

CHAPTER XI: AFTER THE THEATRE

i

After leaving the house Emmy and Alf pressed along in the darkness,
Alf's arm still surrounding and supporting Emmy, Emmy still half
jubilantly and half sorrowfully continuing to recognise her happiness
and the smothered chagrin of her emotions. She was not able to feel
either happy or miserable; but happiness was uppermost. Dislike of Jenny
had its place, also; for she could account for every weakness of Alf's
by reference to Jenny's baseness. But indeed Emmy could not think, and