so unlike him to be late. And he was such a busy man, with so many calls upon his time, that something might have intervened at the last moment to prevent his coming. But in that case, she argued, man of method as he was and respecter in small matters of the rights of others, he would almost certainly have let her know.
While her mind was busy with these pros and cons the clock moved steadily on. It chimed the half hour. More and more positive she grew that Saul Hartz would not come now. Her mind began to reach out tentatively to meet the new and unforeseen situation. The one hope she had, a desperate and perhaps a fantastic hope, of saving her husband's life seemed already to have passed away.
She rang for the tea. It was necessary to do something, even if it involved a trivial action, in order to keep a hold of the will. The tea was wormwood in her mouth, but she was able to drink one cup. And then, with the walls of the room closing in upon her more surely than ever, she lay down on the sofa.
The clock chimed five. Her mind grew numb. All power of action was ebbing away from her. She realized that she could do no more. But half dazed as she was by the strong and cruel reaction that had already set in, she yet heard the honk honk of a motor as it entered the Square, followed at once by a sound of wheels.
Intensely she listened for the ring of the front door
