Mechanically she went about the small daily duties which made up life at Sunnyside—­interviewed Jane Crab, read the newspapers to Mrs. Selwyn, accomplished the necessary shopping in the town, each and all with a mind that was only superficially concerned with the matter in hand, while, behind this screen of commonplace routine, she felt as though her soul were struggling impotently to release itself from the bonds which had bound it in a tyranny of anguish for twelve long months.

In the afternoon, she paid a visit to the Convalescent Hospital.  She made a practice of going there at least once a day and giving what assistance she could.  Frequently she relieved Miles of part of his secretarial work, or checked through with him the invoices of goods received.  There were always plenty of odd jobs to be done, and, after her strenuous work in France, she found it utterly impossible to settle down to the life of masterly inactivity which Selwyn had prescribed for her.

Audrey greeted her with a little flurry of excitement.

“Do you know that there was a Zepp over Oldhampton last night?” she asked, as they went upstairs together.  “Did you hear it?”

Sara shook her head.  The memory of the previous night surged over her like the memory of a vivid dream—­the absolute assurance it had brought her of Garth’s innocence, an assurance which had grown vague and doubtful with the daylight, just as the happenings of a dream grow blurred and indistinct.

“No, I didn’t hear anything,” she replied absently.  “Did they do much damage?  I suppose they were after the munitions factory?”

“Yes.  They dropped one bomb, that’s all.  It fell in a field, luckily.  But goodness knows how they got over without any one’s spotting them!  Everybody’s asking where our search-lights were.  As for our anti-aircraft guns, they’ve never had the opportunity yet to do anything more than try our nerves by practicing!  And last night a golden opportunity came and went unobserved.”

“The milkman was babbling to Jane about Zeppelins this morning, but I thought it was probably only the result of overnight potations at ’The Jolly Sailorman.’”

“No, it was the real thing—­’made in Germany,’” smiled Audrey.  “I begin to feel as if we were quite the hub of the universe, now that the Zepps have acknowledged our existence.”

They paused outside the door of the room allotted to her husband’s activities.

“Miles will be glad to see you to-day,” she pursued.  “He’s bemoaning a new manifestation of war-fever among the feminine population of Monkshaven.  Go in to him, will you?  I must run off—­I’ve got a million things to see to.  You’re not looking very fit to-day”—­suddenly observing the other’s white face and shadowed eyes.  “Are you feeling up to work?”

Sara nodded indifferently.

“Quite,” she said.  “I shouldn’t have come otherwise.”

Miles welcomed her joyfully.