Anna, the next day, woke to a humiliated memory of the previous evening.

　　Darrow had been right in saying that their sacrifice wouldbenefit no one; yet she seemed dimly to discern that therewere obligations not to be tested by that standard. Sheowed it, at any rate, as much to his pride as to hers toabstain from the repetition of such scenes; and she hadlearned that it was beyond her power to do so while theywere together. Yet when he had given her the chance to freeherself, everything had vanished from her mind but the blindfear of losing him; and she saw that he and she were asprofoundly and inextricably bound together as two trees withinterwoven roots.

　　For a long time she brooded on her plight, vaguely consciousthat the only escape from it must come from some externalchance. And slowly the occasion shaped itself in her mind.

　　It was Sophy Viner only who could save her--Sophy Viner onlywho could give her back her lost serenity. She would seekthe girl out and tell her that she had given Darrow up; andthat step once taken there would be no retracing it, and shewould perforce have to go forward alone.

　　Any pretext for action was a kind of anodyne, and shedespatched her maid to the Farlows' with a note asking ifMiss Viner would receive her. There was a long delay beforethe maid returned, and when at last she appeared it was witha slip of paper on which an address was written, and averbal message to the effect that Miss Viner had left somedays previously, and was staying with her sister in a hotelnear the Place de l'Etoile. The maid added that Mrs.

　　Farlow, on the plea that Miss Viner's plans were uncertain,had at first made some difficulty about giving thisinformation; and Anna guessed that the girl had left herfriends' roof, and instructed them to withhold her address,with the object of avoiding Owen. "She's kept faith withherself and I haven't," Anna mused; and the thought was afresh incentive to action.

　　Darrow had announced his intention of coming soon afterluncheon, and the morning was already so far advanced thatAnna, still mistrustful of her strength, decided to driveimmediately to the address Mrs. Farlow had given. On theway there she tried to recall what she had heard of SophyViner's sister, but beyond the girl's enthusiastic report ofthe absent Laura's loveliness she could remember onlycertain vague allusions of Mrs. Farlow's to her artisticendowments and matrimonial vicissitudes. Darrow hadmentioned her but once, and in the briefest terms, as havingapparently very little concern for Sophy's welfare, andbeing, at any rate, too geographically remote to give herany practical support; and Anna wondered what chance hadbrought her to her sister's side at this conjunction. Mrs.

　　Farlow had spoken of her as a celebrity (in what line Annafailed to recall); but Mrs. Farlow's celebrities werelegion, and the name on the slip of paper--Mrs. McTarvie-Birch--did not seem to have any definite association withfame.

　　While Anna waited in the dingy vestibule of the HotelChicago she had so distinct a vision of what she meant tosay to Sophy Viner that the girl seemed already to be beforeher; and her heart dropped from all the height of itscourage when the porter, after a long delay, returned withthe announcement that Miss Viner was no longer in the hotel.

　　Anna, doubtful if she understood, asked if he merely meantthat the young lady was out at the moment; but he repliedthat she had gone away the day before. Beyond this he hadno information to impart, and after a moment's hesitationAnna sent him back to enquire if Mrs. McTarvie-Birch wouldreceive her. She reflected that Sophy had probably pledgedher sister to the same secrecy as Mrs. Farlow, and that apersonal appeal to Mrs. Birch might lead to less negativeresults.

　　There was another long interval of suspense before theporter reappeared with an affirmative answer; and a thirdwhile an exiguous and hesitating lift bore her up past asuccession of shabby landings.

　　When the last was reached, and her guide had directed herdown a winding passage that smelt of sea-going luggage, shefound herself before a door through which a strong odour oftobacco reached her simultaneously with the sounds of asuppressed altercation. Her knock was followed by asilence, and after a minute or two the door was opened by ahandsome young man whose ruffled hair and general air ofcreased disorder led her to conclude that he had just risenfrom a long-limbed sprawl on a sofa strewn with tumbledcushions. This sofa, and a grand piano bearing a basket offaded roses, a biscuit-tin and a devastated breakfast tray,almost filled the narrow sitting-room, in the remainingcorner of which another man, short, swarthy and humble, satexamining the lining of his hat.

　　Anna paused in doubt; but on her naming Mrs. Birch the youngman politely invited her to enter, at the same time castingan impatient glance at the mute spectator in the background.

　　The latter, raising his eyes, which were round and bulging,fixed them, not on the young man but on Anna, whom, for amoment, he scrutinized as searchingly as the interior of hishat. Under his gaze she had the sense of being minutelycatalogued and valued; and the impression, when he finallyrose and moved toward the door, of having been accepted as abetter guarantee than he had had any reason to hope for. Onthe threshold his glance crossed that of the young man in anexchange of intelligence as full as it was rapid; and thisbrief scene left Anna so oddly enlightened that she felt nosurprise when her companion, pushing an arm-chair forward,sociably asked her if she wouldn't have a cigarette. Herpolite refusal provoked the remark that he would, if she'dno objection; and while he groped for matches in his loosepockets, and behind the photographs and letters crowding thenarrow mantel-shelf, she ventured another enquiry for Mrs.

　　Birch.

　　"Just a minute," he smiled; "I............