She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. White’s boarding-house in Russell Square. She felt a cheat and a sneak to his unsuspecting retreating back. She opened one and found herself in a large untidy room set with chairs that were a little disarranged as if by an overnight meeting. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover.
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