expanding with the fierce desire for it, until under the closed lids
tears stole out, and there, in the darkness, she held out her bare arms
to the world--the kind, good, generous, warm-hearted world, which was
waiting, just beyond her threshold, to welcome her and love her and
companion her for ever.




CHAPTER III

THE THRESHOLD


She awoke tired; she had scarcely closed her eyes that night. The fresh
odour of roses filled her room when her maid arrived with morning gifts
from Kathleen and Scott.

She lay abed until noon. They started dressing her about three. After
that the day became unreal to her.

* * * * *

Manhattan was conventionally affable to Geraldine Seagrave, also
somewhat curious to see what she looked like. Fifth Avenue and the
neighbouring side streets were jammed with motors and carriages on the
bright January afternoon that Geraldine made her bow, and the red and
silver drawing-rooms, so famous a generation ago, were packed
continually.