He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. He gave glimpses of possibilities. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. ” He stared in amazement at this new aspect of the situation. At the gate opening upon the road leading to Dollis Hill were stationed William Morgan and John Dump. His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness. “You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks.
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