As a matter of fact she did _not_ go. But it was from an absurdly accidental reason. She was strolling along the Ridgeway soon after lunch on Saturday when she suddenly reflected that she did not know what time he wished to see her. Was it two o’clock or three? She failed to remember, and of course the postcard had been thrown away. At two o’clock she felt she would not run the risk of being an hour too early. Something in her suggested half-past two as a compromise; but when the half-hour chimed she decided that since that would be wrong in any case she had better wait till three. And at three she felt sure that his card had said two, so she went back to Gifford Road. In a way she was pleased with herself. She had kept her word. She had not gone. The narrowness of her victory seemed to emphasize its magnitude. At the theatre that evening an introductory film was shown. It dealt with the Napoleonic invasion of Russia. Something in Catherine impelled her to play “Poland is Lost.” ... § 4 On Monday a letter arrived at the theatre for her. The angular script on the envelope told her who had written it. It ran: I presume you forgot on Saturday. If so, come on Wednesday at seven p.m. R. VERREKER. Catherine was conscious that the struggle was not yet over. On the contrary, it was beginning again. The issue was not, Did she want to go or not? It was, Should she keep the vow she had made to herself? She made a great fuss over weighing both sides of this crucial problem, yet she knew it was a foregone conclusion what the result would be. Then she decided she was giving the matter a place out of all proportion to its importance. After all, it was of little consequence whether she went or not. She would wait till Wednesday, and do just what she felt like at the time. Then she pondered over the precise significance of his phrase “if so.” Did he suspect that her absence on Saturday was not due to forgetfulness? § 5 At the inquest on Mr. Weston the usual verdict was brought in: “Suicide during temporary insanity.” Catherine found herself in possession of a houseful of cheap furniture and a sum of twenty odd pounds in the Post Office Savings Bank. She retained a small quantity of clothing and a few kitchen utensils; the rest of the stuff at 24, Kitchener Road was sold by auction. It fetched fifty-five pounds when all expenses had been deducted. She had a horror of hoarding vast quantities of lumber in the form of keepsakes and mementoes, so she destroyed everything that had no intrinsic value except the diaries Those she transported to Gifford Road and kept.