them, but, though you divined the earlier pout of the spoilt girl,
you felt that it must have foretold this danger-signal in the mature
woman. Such cast of countenance could belong only to one who
intensified in her personality an inheritance of revolt; who,
combining the temper of an ambitious woman with the forces of a
man's brain, had early learnt that the world was not her friend nor
the world's law.

Her clothing made but poor protection against the rigours of a
London winter. Its peculiarity (bearing in mind her position) was
the lack of any pretended elegance. A close-fitting, short jacket of
plain cloth made evident the grace of her bust; beneath was a brown
dress with one row of kilting. She wore a hat of brown felt, the
crown rising from back to front, the narrow brim closely turned up
all round. The high collar of the jacket alone sheltered her neck.
Her gloves, though worn, were obviously of good kid; her boots--
strangest thing of all in a work-girl's daily attire--were both
strong and shapely. This simplicity seemed a declaration that she
could not afford genuine luxuries and scorned to deck herself with
shams.

The manner of her reply inflamed Hewett with impotent wrath. He
smote the table violently, then sprang up and flung his chair aside.

'Is that the way you've learnt to speak to your father?' he shouted.
'Haven't I told you you're not to go nowhere without my leave or
your mother's? Do you pay no heed to what I bid you? If so, say it!
Say it at once, and have done with it.'

Clara was quietly removing her hat. In doing so, she disclosed the