But when she was thinking it over in her room that evening vague and baffling doubts came drifting across this conviction. He was instantly overpowered, and stretched upon the ground. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. What a frightened fool he was! If he could not remember her name, it was equally possible that already she had forgotten his. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. “Look at me. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. A deadlock. Away in London even now Capes was packing and preparing; Capes, the magic man whose touch turned one to trembling fire.
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