The parlour grew into a shrine ready for its divinity, and the hairdresser worked and waited in silence.

In this he made a mistake, but he feared her laughter.
Meanwhile the girl also waited.

She could not go back to the hairdresser's shop lest she should seem to invite a renewal of those attentions which had given her the sweet surprise of love.

The law of her woman's nature stood like a lion in the path.

She waited through the months of the dreary winter till the one gleam of sunshine which had come into her hard young life had faded, till the warmth it had kindled in her heart died--as a lamp's flame dies for lack of oil; died--as a flower dies in the drought; died into anger for the man who had disturbed her peace, and when she thought she cared for him no more she went again to get her hair cut.
'You have come,' said Saintou; but the very strength of his feeling made him grave.
'Good gracious, yes, I have come to have my hair cut.