in
drunkenness; and this feeling that for Yaverland to know of her misery
would be a culminating humiliation that she could not face seemed
disgustingly mad. So she threw herself into a black drowse of misery
unfeatured by specific ideas, until she began to think smilingly of the
way his eyebrows grew; they were very thick and dark and perfectly level
save for a piratical twist in the middle. But she became conscious that
he was standing over her, and her heart almost stopped. He said, "I
think we're just coming into Edinburgh." There was no reason why she
should feel chilled and desolate when he said that. She must be going
out of her mind.

And he, since she had shown by the simplicity of her movements that she
was not afraid of him, was quite happy.

He could see the picture of himself sitting beside the sleeping child as
if it were printed in three colours on glossy paper. But he was a little
troubled lest she had walked too far, and as they went up the stone
steps from the station to Princes Street he bent over her and asked in a
tone of tenderness that he enjoyed using, "Are you tired?"

"Oh, very tired," said Ellen, drooping her head, and aping a fatigue
greater than anything she had ever felt in all her young life.

CHAPTER IV

I

Mr. Philip was crossing Princes Street when he saw them standing in the
white circle under the electric standard by the station steps. The
strong light fell on them like a criticism, and it seemed to him brazen
the way they stood there being so handsome that the passers-by turned
about to stare at them. Doubtless, since folks were such fools, they
were whispering that the two made a fine pair. Surely it was the vilest
indecency that there, under his very eyes, that great hulking chap from
Rio bent his head and spoke to Ellen, and she answered him?

"She's standing there making herself as conspicuous as if she were a
street girl!" he screamed to himself, and other shouts filled his ears,
and he became aware that a cursing driver had pulled up his horse a foot
away and that the loafers at the kerb were lifting jeering cries. He
charged it one more offence to Ellen's account that she had caused him
to make a fool of himself, and vowed he would never think of her again,
and ran among the people to see where she had gone. Yaverland was
leading her very quickly along towards the North Bridge, and she was now
nothing but a dark shape that might, he thought with a glee that he