Time that no wish could change, Time that no
prayers could recall, had made her purpose a part of herself: once she
had governed it; now it governed her. The more she shrank, the harder
she struggled, the more mercilessly it drove her on. No other feeling
in her was strong enough to master it--not even the horror that was
maddening her--the horror of her marriage.
Toward nine o'clock she went back to the house.
"Walking again!" said Mrs. Wragge, meeting her at the door. "Come in and
sit down, my dear. How tired you must be!"
Magdalen smiled, and patted Mrs. Wragge kindly on the shoulder.
"You forget how strong I am," she said. "Nothing hurts me."
She lit her candle and went upstairs again into her room. As she
returned to the old place by her toilet-table, the vain hope in the
three days of delay, the vain hope of deliverance by accident, came back
to her--this time in a form more tangible than the form which it had
hitherto worn.
"Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Something may happen to him; something may
happen to me. Something serious; something fatal. One of us may die."
A sudden change came over her face. She shivered, though there was no
cold in the air.
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