A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment. "He hash eshcaped!" cried the Jew. His arm closed in around her middle and she was caught. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. She had followed a bobbing white hat and gray jacket until she reached the Euston Road corner of Tottenham Court Road, and there, by the name on a bus and the cries of a conductor, she made a guess of her way. She felt that she became more familiar with the floor during the time that he stayed than with any particular person. She confronted him with his own double-standard. To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change.
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