Her freed spirit resumed the burden of the body.
A new day had begun, the day upon which she had promised her answer to Garth.

The next time that clock struck twelve she would be standing with him in the church, and her answer must be ready.
She turned from the window without closing it, drew the curtains closely across, switched on the electric light over the writing-table, took off her evening gown, hung up bodice and skirt in the wardrobe, resolutely locking the door upon them.

Then she slipped on a sage-green wrapper, which she had lately purchased at a bazaar because every one else fled from it, and the old lady whose handiwork it was seemed so disappointed, and, drawing a chair near the writing-table, took out her diary, unlocked the heavy clasp, and began to read.

She turned the pages slowly, pausing here and there, until she came to those she sought.

Over them she pondered long, her head in her hands.