She had missed the figure of Truth. That was very certain. And as she sang the refrain for the last time she seemed to herself to be searching for the form that must surely be very wonderful, searching for it in the many eyes that were fixed upon her. She looked at Sir Donald: “Dice: Tutto al mondo e vano:” She looked at Rupert Carey: “Nell’amore ogni dolcezza.” She still looked at Carey, and the hideous wreckage of the flesh was no longer visible to her. She saw only his burning eyes. Directly she had finished singing she asked for her motor cloak. While they were fetching it she had to go back twice to the platform to bow to the applause. Miss Schley, who was looking angry, said to her: “You’re not going away before my show?” “I want to go to the concert room, where I can hear better, and see,” she replied. Miss Schley looked at her doubtfully, but had to go to the platform. As she slowly disappeared behind the screen Lady Holme drew the cloak round her, pulled down her veil and went quickly away. She wanted--more, she required--to be alone. At the hall door she sent a footman to find the motor car. When it came up she said to the chauffeur: “Take me home quickly and then come back for his lordship.” She got in. As the car went off swiftly she noticed that the streets were shining with wet. “Has it been raining?” she asked. “Raining hard, my lady.” CHAPTER XVI ON the following morning the newspapers contained an account of the concert at Manchester House. They contained also an account of a motor accident which had occurred the same afternoon between Hyde Park Corner and Knightsbridge. On the wet pavement Lord Holme’s new car, which was taking Lady Holme to Cadogan Square at a rapid pace, skidded and overturned, pinning Lady Holme beneath it. While she was on the ground a hansom cab ran into the car. At their breakfasts her friends, her acquaintances, her enemies and the general public read of her beautiful singing at the concert, and read also the following paragraph, which closed the description of the accident: “We deeply regret to learn that Lady Holme was severely injured in the face by the accident. Full particulars have not reached us, but we understand that an immediate operation is necessary and will be performed to-day by Mr. Bernard Crispin the famous surgeon. Her ladyship is suffering great pain, and it is feared that she will be permanently disfigured.” The fierce change which Lady Holme had longed for was a reality. One life, the life of the siren, had come to an end. But the eyes of the woman must still see light. The heart of the woman must still beat on. Death stretched out a hand in the darkness and found the hand of Birth. CHAPTER XVII