It was repeated the next day; it went on for three days; and at the end of that time she knew what to think.

When, at the beginning, she had emerged from her temporary shelter Captain Everard had quitted the shop; and he had not come again that evening, as it had struck her he possibly might--might all the more easily that there were numberless persons who came, morning and afternoon, numberless times, so that he wouldn't necessarily have attracted attention.

The second day it was different and yet on the whole worse.

His access to her had become possible--she felt herself even reaping the fruit of her yesterday's glare at Mr.
Buckton; but transacting his business with him didn't simplify--it could, in spite of the rigour of circumstance, feed so her new conviction.

The rigour was tremendous, and his telegrams--not now mere pretexts for getting at her--were apparently genuine; yet the conviction had taken but a night to develop.