Lady Ingleton’s remark, “you look tired,” had struck unpleasantly on Mrs. Clarke’s ears, and she came away from the Embassy that day with them in her mind.  She was on foot.  As she came out through the great gateway of the Embassy she remembered that she had been coming from it on that day in June when she had seen Dion Leith for the first time in Pera.  A sharp thrill had gone through her that day.  He had come.  He had obeyed the persistent call of her will.  What she had desired for so long would be.  And she had been fiercely glad for two reasons; one an ordinary reason, the other less ordinary.  A mysterious reason of the mind.  If her will had played her false for once, had proved inadequate, she would have suffered strangely.  When she knew it had not she had triumphed.  But now, as she walked onward slowly, she wished she had never seen Dion Leith in Pera, she wished that her will had played her false.  It would have been better so, for she was in a difficult situation, and she foresaw that it was going to become more difficult.  She was assailed by that recurring desire which is the scourge of the sensualist, the desire to rid herself violently, abruptly and forever of the possession she had schemed and made long efforts to obtain.  Her torch was burnt out.  She wished to stamp out the flame of another torch which still glowed with a baleful fire.

“And Delia has noticed something!” she thought.

The thought was scarcely out of her mind when she came face to face with Dion Leith.  He stopped before her.

“Have you been to the Embassy?” he said.

“Yes.  Delia Ingleton came back yesterday.  You aren’t going to call there?”

“Of course not.  I happened to see you walking in that direction, so I thought I would wait for you.”

With the manner of a man exercising a right he turned to walk back with her.  A flame of irritation scorched her, but she did not show any emotion.  She only said quietly: 

“You know I am not particularly fond of being seen with men in the Grande Rue.”

“Very well.  If you like, I’ll come to your flat by a round-about way.  I’ll be there five minutes after you are.”

Before she had time to say anything he was gone, striding through the crowd.

Mrs. Clarke walked on and came into the Grande Rue.

She lived in a flat in a street which turned out of the Grande Rue on the left not very far from the Taxim Garden.  As she walked on slowly she was trying to make up her mind to force a break with Dion.  She had great courage and was naturally ruthless, yet for once she was beset by indecision.  She did not any longer feel sure that she could dominate this man.  She had bent him to her will when she took him; but could she do so when she wished to get rid of him?

When she reached the house, on the second floor of which was her flat, she found him there waiting for her.

“You must have walked very quickly, Dion,” she said.