social engagements-seemed to carry her into another atmosphere, an
atmosphere far removed from this lonely spot upon the moors. She seemed
to catch from those printed lines some faint, reflective thrill of the
more vital world of strife in which he was living. For a moment the
roar of London was in her ears. She saw the lighted thoroughfares, the
crowded pavements, the faces of the men and women, all a little strained
and eager, so different from the placid immobility of the world in which
she lived. She rose to her feet and moved restlessly about the room.
Presently she lifted the curtain and looked out. There was a pause in
the storm and a great mass of black clouds had just been driven past the
face of the watery moon. Even the wind seemed to be holding its breath,
but so far as she could see, moors and hillsides were wrapped in one
unending mantle of snow. There was no visible sign of any human
habitation, no sound from any of the birds or animals who were cowering
in their shelters, not even a sheep hell or the barking of a dog to
break the profound silence. She dropped the curtain and turned back to
her chair. Her feet were leaden and her heart was heavy. The struggle
of the day was at an end. Memory was asserting itself. She felt the
flush in her cheek, the quickening heat of her heart, the thrill of her
pulses as she lived again through those few wild minutes. There was no
longer any escape from the wild, confusing truth. The thing which she
had dreaded had come.



CHAPTER V

The most popular hostess in London was a little thrilled at the arrival
of the moment for which she had planned so carefully. She laid her hand
on Tallente's arm and led him towards a comparatively secluded corner of