ten minutes Ally would be at the door, and Charity would hear her
greeting Verena in the kitchen, and then calling up from the foot of the
stairs.

Suddenly it became clear that flight, and instant flight, was the only
thing conceivable. The longing to escape, to get away from familiar
faces, from places where she was known, had always been strong in her in
moments of distress. She had a childish belief in the miraculous power
of strange scenes and new faces to transform her life and wipe out
bitter memories. But such impulses were mere fleeting whims compared to
the cold resolve which now possessed her. She felt she could not remain
an hour longer under the roof of the man who had publicly dishonoured
her, and face to face with the people who would presently be gloating
over all the details of her humiliation.

Her passing pity for Mr. Royall had been swallowed up in loathing:
everything in her recoiled from the disgraceful spectacle of the drunken
old man apostrophizing her in the presence of a band of loafers and
street-walkers. Suddenly, vividly, she relived again the horrible moment
when he had tried to force himself into her room, and what she had
before supposed to be a mad aberration now appeared to her as a vulgar
incident in a debauched and degraded life.

While these thoughts were hurrying through her she had dragged out
her old canvas school-bag, and was thrusting into it a few articles of
clothing and the little packet of letters she had received from Harney.
From under her pincushion she took the library key, and laid it in full
view; then she felt at the back of a drawer for the blue brooch that
Harney had given her. She would not have dared to wear it openly at
North Dormer, but now she fastened it on her bosom as if it were a