After tea Sally went straight to Hornsey Road. In thinking of Toby as she left the house she made a light gesture with her fingers to show that he no longer existed. If she had met him she would have attempted no greeting, for such was her present temper. At the Barrows' she was received with acclamation. Old Perce, who had enjoyed a good deal of four-ale during the day, and had a jugful of it now at his elbow, collapsed at sight of her. He bayed a little, but with an expression of admiring wonder that gave Sally her best tribute. Mrs. Perce, the expert, nodded. She had received a letter in the morning from Madame Gala. So to her all the news was known. All the same, Sally spent a happy couple of hours in the flat, and collected her outdoor clothes with unwillingness. Each time she had been to see Mrs. Perce she had felt more strongly than of old the contrast between her always-cheerless home and their warm, prosperity-laden atmosphere. The recognition acted powerfully upon her. It was the creation in her mind of a standard of physical comfort, as the visit to Madame Gala had created a standard of decorative colour. She was frowning at the new perception as she left the house, and was half-absorbed in her consciousness of it. The feeling did not prevent her, at first with a sharp tingling of surprise, and then, as she grasped the significance of the fact, a start of emotional disorder, from seeing a familiar figure in the light of the Supply Stores. Her heart jumped, and began to flurry in her breast. The figure she saw was that of Toby. He stood a little to the side of the Stores, watching the doorway from which Sally came. As she flinched, he came across the road. Sally pretended not to notice him, and knew that he was following her. But Toby made no attempt to speak to her while they were in the light of the shops. She saw that he had his cap pulled very low down over his eyes, and that his hands were not in his pockets, but hanging loose. He was dressed in a rough dark tweed suit, and looked like a fighter, but not a professional boxer. His carriage was clumsy, but light. His dark face was marked by a sort of determination--not bravado, not impudence, but a solid resoluteness. His eyes she had never properly seen. His mouth was large, but the lips were thin; the nose was coarse, but not big. He was ugly, but he was very obviously strong. He was not tall, but was very sturdily built, and gave the air of considerable strength. As he followed her she could hardly keep from looking back; it was only with a great effort that she kept her eyes forward, and as she turned into Grove Road she increased her pace. Sally knew quite well what he would do. He would wait until she had passed the block of shops and had come to the comparative darkness of the houses beyond. Then he would walk abreast and speak to her. And while she tried to think what to do her heart was strangling her. She was so excited that her breath was coming almost in sobs.