Alone all through the day, and very often in the evening Clem was not at all disposed to occupy herself in domestic activity.  The lodgings were taken furnished, and a bondmaid of the house did such work as was indispensable.  Dirt and disorder were matters of indifference to the pair, who represented therein the large class occupying cheap London lodgings; an impure atmosphere, surroundings more or less squalid, constant bickering with the landlady, coarse usage of the servant—­these things Clem understood as necessaries of independent life, and it would have cost her much discomfort had she been required to live in a more civilised manner.  Her ambitions were essentially gross.  In the way of social advancement she appreciated nothing but an increased power of spending money, and consequently of asserting herself over others.  She had no desire whatever to enter a higher class than that in which she was born; to be of importance in her familiar circle was the most she aimed at.  In visiting the theatre, she did not so much care to occupy a superior place—­indeed, such a position made her ill at ease—­as to astonish her neighbours in the pit by a lavish style of costume, by loud remarks implying a free command of cash, by purchase between the acts of something expensive to eat or drink.  Needless to say that she never read anything but police news; in the fiction of her world she found no charm, so sluggishly unimaginative was her nature.  Till of late she had either abandoned herself all day long to a brutal indolence, eating rather too much, and finding quite sufficient occupation for her slow brain in the thought of how pleasant it was not to be obliged to work, and occasionally in reviewing the chances that she might eventually have plenty of money and no Joseph Snowdon as a restraint upon her; or else, her physical robustness demanding exercise, she walked considerable distances about the localities she knew, calling now and then upon an acquaintance.

Till of late; but a change had come upon her life.  It was now seldom that she kept the house all day; when within doors she was restless, quarrelsome.  Joseph became aware with surprise that she no longer tried to conceal her enmity against him; on a slight provocation she broke into a fierceness which reminded him of the day when he undeceived her as to his position, and her look at such times was murderous.  It might come, he imagined, of her being released from the prudent control of her mother.  However, again a few weeks and things were somewhat improved; she eyed him like a wild beast, but was less frequent in her outbreaks.  Here, too, it might be that Mrs. Peckover’s influence was at work, for Clara spent at least four evenings of the seven away from home, and always said she had been at the Close.  As indifferent as it was possible to be, Joseph made no attempt to restrain her independence; indeed he was glad to have her out of his way.

We must follow her on one of these evenings ostensibly passed at Mrs. Peckover’s—­no, not follow, but discover her at nine o’clock.