At times passion urged her to break through this barrier between them, to bring about a situation which would end in clear mutual understanding, cost her what it might.

At other times she was driven to despair by the thought that she had made herself too cheap in his eyes.

Could she put off the last vestige of her independence, and, in so many words, ask him to give her money?
This evening she expected Waymark, but the usual time of his coming went by.

She sat in the twilight, listening with painful intentness to every step on the stairs; again and again her heart leaped at some footfall far below, only to be deceived.

She had not even now made up her mind how to speak to him, or whether to speak to him at all; but she longed passionately to see him.