“I ought to have done anything! “What’s a man for? “Friendship!” He doubled up his fist, and seemed to contemplate thrusting it through the window. But did Gerald trouble himself about her? No. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. The looming face was 71 over her own once again, and arms as strong as iron bars held her down. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. “So you found Rhea, I see. It seemed to them they could never have been really alive before, but only dimly anticipating existence.
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