But were they free, after all, these thoughts of hers?
Julia rose at daybreak and, fully dressed, stood watching the red light eastwards staining the smoke-hung city.

Her little room with its plain deal furniture, its uncarpeted floor, was the perfection of neatness, her bed already made, her little pots of flowers upon the window-sill, jealously watered.

In the still smaller sitting-room, visible through the open door, she could hear the hissing of her kettle upon the little spirit lamp.

Her hat and gloves were already out.

Everything was in readiness for her early start.
She had slept very much as usual, and had got up only a little earlier than she was accustomed to.