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The
sun
turned
and
left
her
room
,
and
Charity
seated
herself
in
the
window
,
gazing
down
the
village
street
through
the
half
-
opened
shutters
.
Not
a
thought
was
in
her
mind
;
it
was
just
a
dark
whirlpool
of
crowding
images
;
and
she
watched
the
people
passing
along
the
street
,
Dan
Targatt
’
s
team
hauling
a
load
of
pine
-
trunks
down
to
Hepburn
,
the
sexton
’
s
old
white
horse
grazing
on
the
bank
across
the
way
,
as
if
she
looked
at
these
familiar
sights
from
the
other
side
of
the
grave
.
She
was
roused
from
her
apathy
by
seeing
Ally
Hawes
come
out
of
the
Frys
’
gate
and
walk
slowly
toward
the
red
house
with
her
uneven
limping
step
.
At
the
sight
Charity
recovered
her
severed
contact
with
reality
.
She
divined
that
Ally
was
coming
to
hear
about
her
day
:
no
one
else
was
in
the
secret
of
the
trip
to
Nettleton
,
and
it
had
flattered
Ally
profoundly
to
be
allowed
to
know
of
it
.
At
the
thought
of
having
to
see
her
,
of
having
to
meet
her
eyes
and
answer
or
evade
her
questions
,
the
whole
horror
of
the
previous
night
’
s
adventure
rushed
back
upon
Charity
.
What
had
been
a
feverish
nightmare
became
a
cold
and
unescapable
fact
.
Poor
Ally
,
at
that
moment
,
represented
North
Dormer
,
with
all
its
mean
curiosities
,
its
furtive
malice
,
its
sham
unconsciousness
of
evil
.
Charity
knew
that
,
although
all
relations
with
Julia
were
supposed
to
be
severed
,
the
tender
-
hearted
Ally
still
secretly
communicated
with
her
;
and
no
doubt
Julia
would
exult
in
the
chance
of
retailing
the
scandal
of
the
wharf
.
The
story
,
exaggerated
and
distorted
,
was
probably
already
on
its
way
to
North
Dormer
.
Ally
’
s
dragging
pace
had
not
carried
her
far
from
the
Frys
’
gate
when
she
was
stopped
by
old
Mrs
.
Sollas
,
who
was
a
great
talker
,
and
spoke
very
slowly
because
she
had
never
been
able
to
get
used
to
her
new
teeth
from
Hepburn
.
Still
,
even
this
respite
would
not
last
long
;
in
another
ten
minutes
Ally
would
be
at
the
door
,
and
Charity
would
hear
her
greeting
Verena
in
the
kitchen
,
and
then
calling
up
from
the
foot
of
the
stairs
.
Suddenly
it
became
clear
that
flight
,
and
instant
flight
,
was
the
only
thing
conceivable
.
The
longing
to
escape
,
to
get
away
from
familiar
faces
,
from
places
where
she
was
known
,
had
always
been
strong
in
her
in
moments
of
distress
.
She
had
a
childish
belief
in
the
miraculous
power
of
strange
scenes
and
new
faces
to
transform
her
life
and
wipe
out
bitter
memories
.
But
such
impulses
were
mere
fleeting
whims
compared
to
the
cold
resolve
which
now
possessed
her
.
She
felt
she
could
not
remain
an
hour
longer
under
the
roof
of
the
man
who
had
publicly
dishonoured
her
,
and
face
to
face
with
the
people
who
would
presently
be
gloating
over
all
the
details
of
her
humiliation
.
Her
passing
pity
for
Mr
.
Royall
had
been
swallowed
up
in
loathing
:
everything
in
her
recoiled
from
the
disgraceful
spectacle
of
the
drunken
old
man
apostrophizing
her
in
the
presence
of
a
band
of
loafers
and
street
-
walkers
.
Suddenly
,
vividly
,
she
relived
again
the
horrible
moment
when
he
had
tried
to
force
himself
into
her
room
,
and
what
she
had
before
supposed
to
be
a
mad
aberration
now
appeared
to
her
as
a
vulgar
incident
in
a
debauched
and
degraded
life
.
While
these
thoughts
were
hurrying
through
her
she
had
dragged
out
her
old
canvas
school
-
bag
,
and
was
thrusting
into
it
a
few
articles
of
clothing
and
the
little
packet
of
letters
she
had
received
from
Harney
.
From
under
her
pincushion
she
took
the
library
key
,
and
laid
it
in
full
view
;
then
she
felt
at
the
back
of
a
drawer
for
the
blue
brooch
that
Harney
had
given
her
.
She
would
not
have
dared
to
wear
it
openly
at
North
Dormer
,
but
now
she
fastened
it
on
her
bosom
as
if
it
were
a
talisman
to
protect
her
in
her
flight
.
These
preparations
had
taken
but
a
few
minutes
,
and
when
they
were
finished
Ally
Hawes
was
still
at
the
Frys
’
corner
talking
to
old
Mrs
.
Sollas
.
.
.
.
She
had
said
to
herself
,
as
she
always
said
in
moments
of
revolt
:
“
I
’
ll
go
to
the
Mountain
—
I
’
ll
go
back
to
my
own
folks
.
”
She
had
never
really
meant
it
before
;
but
now
,
as
she
considered
her
case
,
no
other
course
seemed
open
.
She
had
never
learned
any
trade
that
would
have
given
her
independence
in
a
strange
place
,
and
she
knew
no
one
in
the
big
towns
of
the
valley
,
where
she
might
have
hoped
to
find
employment
.
Miss
Hatchard
was
still
away
;
but
even
had
she
been
at
North
Dormer
she
was
the
last
person
to
whom
Charity
would
have
turned
,
since
one
of
the
motives
urging
her
to
flight
was
the
wish
not
to
see
Lucius
Harney
.
Travelling
back
from
Nettleton
,
in
the
crowded
brightly
-
lit
train
,
all
exchange
of
confidence
between
them
had
been
impossible
;
but
during
their
drive
from
Hepburn
to
Creston
River
she
had
gathered
from
Harney
’
s
snatches
of
consolatory
talk
—
again
hampered
by
the
freckled
boy
’
s
presence
—
that
he
intended
to
see
her
the
next
day
.
At
the
moment
she
had
found
a
vague
comfort
in
the
assurance
;
but
in
the
desolate
lucidity
of
the
hours
that
followed
she
had
come
to
see
the
impossibility
of
meeting
him
again
.
Her
dream
of
comradeship
was
over
;
and
the
scene
on
the
wharf
—
vile
and
disgraceful
as
it
had
been
—
had
after
all
shed
the
light
of
truth
on
her
minute
of
madness
.
It
was
as
if
her
guardian
’
s
words
had
stripped
her
bare
in
the
face
of
the
grinning
crowd
and
proclaimed
to
the
world
the
secret
admonitions
of
her
conscience
.
