“You’ll have to take baby out this morning; and do the shopping; and, oh! everything.  I’ve got to go out, and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

With the door of the pink bedroom shut upon her, she dressed herself with trembling speed.  Her new black velvet suit, her furs, her violets, her amethyst earrings, her silk stockings, and suede shoes and white gloves!  Thank God for clothes when a woman was out upon the chase!

She whispered with an anger that was fiendish; that rose from its dust right back from the age of barbarism, and came at her call: 

“No one shall take what is mine!”

She swept money lavishly into her bag; no expenses of locomotion were going to stand in her way.  She flew down the cold grey stairs and out into the street.  Because the Tube would be quicker than a cab, she travelled upon it; and people looked at her fevered cheeks, her shining eyes, wondering what drove this lovely woman, and upon what errand.  Excitement beautified her and gave to her a transcendent quality which drew all eyes.

Uplifted as she was, yet she noticed this homage, and her woman’s soul leapt, exulting.  It was like applause; like a great voice encouraging, cheering her on.  It gave her pride and the supreme vanity to pursue her way.

She left the Tube at Charing Cross, and drove in a taxicab to her husband’s place of business.  One or two urbane men, strangers to her, hurried forward as she alighted from the cab, inquiring her pleasure, and she said, smiling:  “I want my husband; I’m Mrs. Kerr.”

As she said “My husband,” delight took her, absurdly like Julia’s.  She checked a laugh at it.

Osborn had gone out to lunch.

“Did they know where?”

“I heard him telephone, booking a table for two at the Royal Red,” one of the men said, and bit off his words suddenly as he caught the humorous warning look of the other.  The look said:  “We’re all the same; don’t get the poor fellow into trouble.”

She understood it and again checked a laugh.  She thanked them, jumped into the taxicab, and as the two men hurried after her, vying with each other as to which should do her the service of closing the door, she leaned forward and said buoyantly: 

“Yes, you’ve given my husband away badly!  The table wasn’t for me!  Tell the driver to go to the Royal Red.”

She could joke about the matter, so complete she felt her power to be.  She had in her, strong and vital, an irresistible feeling of achievements to come, as if nothing in the world could defeat her purpose, nor gainsay her will; it was like an inspiration which cannot be wrong.  And as she entered the restaurant, and swept her eyes over the ground floor, she found at once those whom she looked for—­her husband and the other woman.

As she went forward slowly, calm now, confident and at ease, she remembered, with a rising and fierce sense of satisfaction, the raven hair, the high shoulders and white face, the attractive insolence of her rival.  They had been before upon the same battle-ground; but now the battle was level; nay, it was more than level; it waxed in favour of the wife, who, with every weapon to her hand, advanced leisurely to employ them against the woman who had none save that of her stupid beauty, allied to the strategy of her greed.