She found herself alone in the train asking herself what she must do next, and trying not to think of herself as cut off from home or any refuge whatever from the world she had resolved to face. "Do you know what you are talking about, Mrs. That was something in his favour. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. I like such interviews. Someone was coming out of the house. " He was delighted to find the office deserted. All her life Martha had been there. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. She had but to choose.
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