money. Towards midnight, he walked as far as High Street, and looked
at the windows above the music-shop. All was dark.

He rose very early next morning, and as post-time drew near he
walked about the street in agonies of suspense. He watched the
letter-carrier from house to house, followed him up, and saw him
pass the number at which he felt assured that he would deliver a
letter. In frenzy of disappointment a fierce oath burst from his
lips.

"That's what comes of trusting a woman!--she is going to cheat me.
She has gained her end, and will put me off with excuses."

But perhaps a telegram would come. He made a pretence of
breakfasting, and paced his room for an hour like a caged animal.
When the monotony of circulating movement had all but stupefied him,
he was awakened by a double postman's knock at the front door, the
signal that announces a telegram.

Again from Patty, and again a request that he would come to the shop
at mid-day.

"Just as I foresaw--excuses--postponement. What woman ever had
the sense of honour!"

To get through the morning he drank--an occupation suggested by
the heat of the day, which blazed cloudless. The liquor did not
cheer him, but inspired a sullen courage, a reckless resolve. And in
this frame of mind he presented himself before Patty Ringrose.