The blood rushed back to her brain.

She must act.
She stared around, dazed for a moment, and then she saw the time tables--the Bradshaw and the A.B.C.She turned over the leaves of the latter with feverish haste.

Yes, there was a train which left at 2:30 and got to London at half-past five; it was a slow one--the express which started at 3:30, did not get in until nearly six.

That might be too late--both might be too late, but she must try.

Then she put her hand to her head in agony.