In Monica these movements excited no special remark; they were merely a continuance of his restlessness.

But no sooner had he departed, after luncheon, than she went to her dressing-room, and began to make slow, uncertain preparations for leaving home herself.
This morning she had tried to write a letter for Bevis, but vainly.

She knew not what to say to him, uncertain of her own desires and of what lay before her.

Yet, if she were to communicate with him henceforth at all, it was necessary, this very afternoon, to find an address where letters could be received for her, and to let him know of it.
To-morrow, Sunday, was useless for the purpose, and on Monday it might be impossible for her to go out alone.

Besides that, she could not be sure of the safety of a letter delivered at the flat on Monday night or Tuesday morning.
She dressed at length and went out.