She noticed these names painted
on little boards for the first time for weeks. Or should she return to
her room, and spend the night working out the details of a very
enlightened and ingenious scheme? Of all possibilities this appealed
to her most, and brought to mind the fire, the lamplight, the steady
glow which had seemed lit in the place where a more passionate flame
had once burnt.
Now Katharine stopped, and Mary woke to the fact that instead of
having a goal she had evidently none. She paused at the edge of the
crossing, and looked this way and that, and finally made as if in the
direction of Haverstock Hill.
"Look here--where are you going?" Mary cried, catching her by the
hand. "We must take that cab and go home." She hailed a cab and
insisted that Katharine should get in, while she directed the driver
to take them to Cheyne Walk.
Katharine submitted. "Very well," she said. "We may as well go there
as anywhere else."
A gloom seemed to have fallen on her. She lay back in her corner,
silent and apparently exhausted. Mary, in spite of her own
preoccupation, was struck by her pallor and her attitude of dejection.
"I'm sure we shall find him," she said more gently than she had yet
spoken.
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