Fleda mused a moment. "That's what she came to do with me," she then honestly returned. "But what did she expect to get of you, with your opposition so marked from the first?" "When I got into this I didn't know you, and now that I know you how can I tell you the difference? And she's so different, so ugly and vulgar, in the light of this squabble. No, like you I've never known one. It's another thing, it's a new thing altogether. Listen to me a little: can't something be done?" It was what had been in the air in those moments at Kensington, and it only wanted words to be a committed act. The more reason, to the girl's excited mind, why it shouldn't have words; her one thought was not to hear, to keep the act uncommitted. She would do this if she had to be horrid.!

"But why on earth?" Mrs. Gereth's sad eyes were fixed on her. "Yes, henceforth there'll be a ghost or two."

"I've got a perfect case—I could have her up. The Brigstocks say it's simple stealing." The other visitor meanwhile turned to Fleda. "What is Mrs. Gereth going to do?" "Why, of the whole wretched thing."