Part 3 She dismissed the first hotels she passed, she scarcely knew why, mainly perhaps from the mere dread of entering them, and crossed Waterloo Bridge at a leisurely pace. “I am going,” she said grimly, with three hairpins in her mouth. Brendon felt his arm seized. Returning to the churchyard, he walked round it; and on the western side, near a small yew-tree discovered a new-made grave. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. ’ She tossed her head. I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. A woman cannot change her soul. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation web page at http://www.
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