"Hallo, Sally!" Toby was by her side, and his arms round her, and his kisses on her cheek. "Why, aren't you going to kiss me?" Sally's eyes opened wide at his tone of innocent surprise. She suffered him to kiss her lips. Toby had not received her letter! He was on leave, and.... She gasped. An indescribable relief caused her to rest limply and unprotestingly in his arms. Once again they were engulfed in merciful darkness, hidden from each other and from anybody who might happen to pass. She could not think at all; but she was thankful at this reprieve. Not yet would he kill her. And as they stood embraced she was suddenly happy, with a passion that astonished her. Toby-- Toby, her love; and she herself in his arms again, as she had never thought to be. A strange laugh, low and tender, came from her lips. Her cheek was gently rubbed against his, and her body quite relaxed. Every one of Sally's difficulties suffered an oblivion; they were all dispersed in the extraordinary mist of sensation which enwrapped her. "I _was_ surprised," she murmured, kissing him with all her heart. "Didn't expect to see you. Funny to see you ... _so funny_ ... and when I was thinking of you. I must have known you were coming." "I just got in," Toby said. "I say, where you going, Sal?" Sally flinched again. Immediately she was conscious of terror. "Stoke Newington," she cried; in a flash. What was she to do? What _was_ she to do? She was desperate. Fear was strong; but love was stronger. It was not only now that she did not dare to tell him the truth in case he killed her; much more than that was her understanding of the fact that she could not bear to lose him. Such gust of thankfulness had shaken Sally when she knew that Toby had not received her letter that she was brimming now with joy. It was impossible to lose her rapture at the moment of its full glory. She _could_ not tell him. "Stoke Newington? Whatever for? Here, wait till I've had some grub.... No, I'll come with you now. Get some grub later. Have you got to go there now?" "You musn't come, Toby." "Why not?" He was instantly suspicious. His grip tightened, and he forced her to look at him. "Didn't you get my letter?" "When? Now? I've had no letter. What you going to Stoke Newington for? No, I want to know. You going to meet another chap? I believe you are, you little devil! By Christ! If you.... I _will_ come!" Toby was now fiercely suspicious. She could tell from his ferocious grip, and the urgency of his tone. "If you're playing that game, I'll kill you. By Christ, I will!" "I'm not. I'm not," cried Sally. "You're hurting me, Toby!" "You swear it?" He relaxed his hold, which was strangling her. In the darkness he again strove to see her expression and judge for himself of her honesty. "I'm not going to see anybody. I swear I'm not." "Why did you ask if I'd had your letter? What you bin writing to me?" "Oo, a lot of lies...." breathed Sally. "Silly talk and rubbish. That's all it was."