"Oh no, not everything; I saw how little I could get into this scrap of a house. I only brought away what I required." "Burning still, miss. Ain't it quite too dreadful? Took early this morning—the whole place is up there."!

Fleda turned pale, but she faced her companion and smiled. "You confound, Mrs. Gereth, you mix things up. You've only had it from my own mouth that I care for him!" Fleda by this time knew in what way she was affected: she became limp and weak again; she felt herself give everything up. Mixed with the horror, with the kindness of the station-master, with the smell of cinders and the riot of sound, was the raw bitterness of a hope that she might never again in life have to give up so much at such short notice. She heard herself repeat mechanically, yet as if asking it for the first time: "Poynton's gone?"

"I hardly see Mona as the 'soul' of anything," the girl replied. "But have they made no sound? Have you heard nothing at all?" "Why must I?" Fleda asked after a moment. "That you had had a long talk with me, without seeing your mother at all?"