arborough quite well: and quite quickly found rooms which
she had occupied before, in a boarding-house where she had stayed
with Miss Frost long ago. Having recovered from her journey, she
went out on to the cliffs on the north side. It was evening, and the
sea was before her. What was she to do?

She had run away from both men--from Ciccio as well as from
Mitchell. She had spent the last fortnight more or less avoiding the
pair of them. Now she had a moment to herself. She was even free
from Mrs. Tuke, who in her own way was more exacting than the men.
Mrs. Tuke had a baby daughter, and was getting well. Ciccio was
living with the Tukes. Tommy had taken a fancy to him, and had half
engaged him as a sort of personal attendant: the sort of thing Tommy
would do, not having paid his butcher's bills.

So Alvina sat on the cliffs in a mood of exasperation. She was sick
of being badgered about. She didn't really want to marry anybody.
Why should she? She was thankful beyond measure to be by herself.
How sick she was of other people and their importunities! What was
she to do? She decided to offer herself again, in a little while,
for war service--in a new town this time. Meanwhile she wanted to be
by herself.

She made excursions, she walked on the moors, in the brief but
lovely days of early October. For three days it was all so sweet and
lovely--perfect liberty, pure, almost paradisal.

The fourth day it rained: simply rained all day long, and was cold,
dismal, disheartening beyond words. There she sat, stranded in the
dismalness, and knew no way out. She went to bed at nine o'clock,
having decided in a jerk to go to London and find work in the
war-hospitals at once: not to leave off until she had found it.

But in the night she dreamed that Alexander, her first fiance, was
with her on the quay of some harbour, and was reproaching her
bitterly, even reviling her, for having come too late, so that they
had missed their ship. They were there to catch the boat--and she,
for dilatoriness, was an hour late, and she could see the broad
stern of the steamer not far off. Just an hour late. She showed
Alexander her watch--exactly ten o'clock, instead of nine. And he
was more angry than ever, because her watch was slow. He pointed to
the harbour clock--it was ten minutes past ten.

When she woke up she was thinking of Alexander. It was such a long
time since she had thought of him. She wondered if he had a right to
be angry w