A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached. She rose, paid her bill, and turned westwards. Suppose he stopped all her allowance, made it imperative that she should either stay ineffectually resentful at home or earn a living for herself at once. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. But I never betray an old customer. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. Its walled heaved with black mildew and sea-salt. All this juncture, a thundering crash was heard against the side of the bridge. “YOU had to come in. Then she turned, and entering the inner room, commenced to dress hastily for the street. The Storm. The contest was now carried on between Rowland and Darrell. .
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