So it was over. The house was quiet again, and they were all shut in their several rooms. Angelica went to Polly’s door and knocked. "It’s Angelica," she said. "Anything I can do for you?" Polly’s voice came, after a long interval, faint and mournful: "No, thank you!" So then where should she turn but, naturally, to Eddie? She was very unhappy. She felt ashamed of herself now, terribly lonely, banished, and disgraced. Of course Polly would tell Eddie--perhaps already had told him--all that Angelica had told her, all about that disgraceful affair with Vincent, and she would lose, or perhaps already had lost, Eddie’s regard. Just when she needed it so, when she had been so cruelly repudiated by Vincent! "Well, anyway, I want to see him," she said to herself. "Anyway, he won’t fly out at me, even if he thinks I’ve been awful!" She couldn’t find him for a long time. She wandered about the house like a lost soul; and then at last she came across him on the veranda, sitting there smoking, in the chilly October evening. "Mr. Eddie!" she said softly, from the doorway. "Oh! Yes?" he answered pleasantly. "Is it you, Angelica? Do you want anything?" "I just wanted to speak to you----” "Shall I come in?" "I’ll come out," she suggested, glad of the chance to talk in the dark, and groped her way to the corner where she saw the light of his cigar. "It’s a dark night," he said. "It’s--sad out here," said Angelica. "So--damp, and all." "There’s a big storm coming. I wanted to speak to you, Angelica. I’m very glad you came. I wanted--I’ve some money that’s due you. You see, I’m going away to-morrow." "Going where?" "To a training-camp--before I go to France, you know." "Oh, dear!" she cried, with quite genuine dismay. "Oh, Mr. Eddie, I _am_ sorry! I hate to have you gone!" "I don’t like to go," he admitted, simply. "And especially I don’t like to leave you like this. I wish that it could have been different." She waited a moment. "I suppose I better be going to-morrow, too," she said. "I suppose so. There’s nothing more for you here, Angelica. Polly’s going away, you know, and----” "Mr. Eddie!" she cried. "Tell me! Tell me, honestly, do you think I--it was my fault? If you’d only please tell me everything they told you--Mrs. Geraldine, and all! What did she say about me--and--that?" "Polly?" he asked. "She didn’t say anything about you at all, except that she liked you very much, and that she thought Vincent had behaved very badly toward you." "My Gawd!" said Angelica under her breath. "She never told him! He don’t know a thing!"