275 “Yes!” She answered, feeling joy and fear well in her chest. ’ ‘Will you have done, Gerald?’ demanded Hilary, exasperated. ” She marked an hotel that seemed neither opulent nor odd in a little side street opening on the Embankment, made up her mind with an effort, and, returning by Hungerford Bridge to Waterloo, took a cab to this chosen refuge with her two pieces of luggage. She blushed prettily, and in a moment regained command of her tongue. I will take you for thirty-five shillings a week. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. The Tigress is second-hand, built for coast-trade. I'm no mollycoddle.
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