"PERHAPS I SHALL GO BACK"


Perhaps she was over-sensitive and a little unreasonable, but she would
not admit it. She had been insulted by a man who had used her name
lightly, who had proclaimed that he was her husband, a man who was a
complete stranger to her. She had heard of him before from Marjorie
Linden, when they were at school together.

Marjorie had spoken of this man in effusive admiration. Joan's lips
curled with scorn. She did not question her own anger. She did not ask
herself, was it reasonable? Had not the man some right to defend
himself, to explain? If he had wanted to explain, he had had ample
opportunity, and he had not taken advantage of it. No, it was a joke--a
cruel, cowardly joke at her expense.

Poor and alone in the world, with none to defend her, she had been
subjected to the odious attentions of Slotman. She was ready to regard
all men as creatures of the same type. She had allowed poverty to narrow
her views and warp her mind, and now--

"I beg your pardon, ma'am--"

She was walking along the road to the station. She turned, a man had
pulled up in a small car; he touched his hat.

"My lady sent me after you, Mrs. Alston."

Joan gripped her hands tightly. She looked with blazing eyes at the