And such horror
seized on her that she could hardly walk away.
"Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!" So it went in her mind--a kind of moaning, like
that of a cold, rainy wind through dripping trees. What did it mean? Oh,
what did it mean? In this miserable tumult, the only thought that did
not come to her was that of going back to his chambers. She hurried
away. It was a wonder she was not run over, for she had no notion what
she was doing, where going, and crossed the streets without the least
attention to traffic. She came to Trafalgar Square, and stood leaning
against its parapet in front of the National Gallery. Here she had her
first coherent thought: So that was why his chambers had been empty! No
clerk--no one! That they might be alone. Alone, where she had dreamed of
being alone with him! And only that morning he had kissed her and said,
"Good-bye, treasure!" A dreadful little laugh got caught in her throat,
confused with a sob. Why--why had she a heart? Down there, against the
plinth of one of the lions, a young man leaned, with his arms round a
girl, pressing her to him. Gyp turned away from the sight and resumed
her miserable wandering. She went up Bury Street. No light; not any sign
of life! It did not matter; she could not have gone in, could not stay
still, must walk! She put up her veil to get more air, feeling choked.
The trees of the Green Park, under which she was passing now, had still
a few leaves, and they gleamed in the lamplight copper-coloured as that
girl's hair.
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