alive Annesley seemed to meet and pity the timid, hopeless girl whose one
safe haven these mean quarters had been. She tried to gather the old self
into her new self, that she might take it with her and comfort it,
rescuing it from the tyrant.

The two trunks she had brought five years ago were stored in the basement
box-room; but under the camp bed was her dressing-bag, the only "lock-up"
receptacle she possessed. In it she kept a few letters and an abortive
diary which in some moods had given her the comfort of a confidant.

The key of this bag was never absent from her purse, and opening it with
quivering hands, the girl threw in a few toilet things for the night, a
coat, skirt, and blouse for morning, and a small flat toque which would
not crush. Afterward--in that wonderful, dim "afterward" which shone
vaguely bright, like a sunlit landscape discerned through mist--she could
send for more of her possessions. But she would have nothing which had
been given her by Mrs. Ellsworth, and she would return the dress and
cloak she was wearing to-night.

Three minutes were enough for the packing of the bag; then, luggage in
hand, she turned at the door for a last look, such as a released convict
might give to his cell.

"Good-bye!" she said, with a thought of compassion for her successor.
And passing Mrs. Ellsworth's room she would have thrown a farewell glance
at its familiar chairs and tables, each one of which she hated with a
separate hatred; but with a shock of surprise, she found the door shut.

That must mean that the dragon had retreated from the combat and retired
to her lair!