Sally's emotions, as she sat in her apartment on the morning of herreturn to New York, resembled somewhat those of a swimmer who, afterwavering on a raw morning at the brink of a chill pool, nerves himselfto the plunge. She was aching, but she knew that she had done well. Ifshe wanted happiness, she must fight for it, and for all these monthsshe had been shirking the fight. She had done with wavering on thebrink, and here she was, in mid-stream, ready for whatever might befall.

　　It hurt, this coming to grips. She had expected it to hurt. But it was apain that stimulated, not a dull melancholy that smothered. She feltalive and defiant.

　　She had finished unpacking and tidying up. The next move was certainlyto go and see Ginger. She had suddenly become aware that she wanted verybadly to see Ginger. His stolid friendliness would be a support and aprop. She wished now that she had sent him a cable, so that he couldhave met her at the dock. It had been rather terrible at the dock. Theechoing customs sheds had sapped her valour and she felt alone andforlorn.

　　She looked at her watch, and was surprised to find how early it was.

　　She could catch him at the office and make him take her out to lunch.

　　She put on her hat and went out.

　　The restless hand of change, always active in New York, had not sparedthe outer office of the Fillmore Nicholas Theatrical Enterprises Ltd. inthe months of her absence. She was greeted on her arrival by an entirelynew and original stripling in the place of the one with whom at her lastvisit she had established such cordial relations. Like his predecessorhe was generously pimpled, but there the resemblance stopped. He was agrim boy, and his manner was stern and suspicious. He peered narrowly atSally for a moment as if he had caught her in the act of purloining theoffice blotting-paper, then, with no little acerbity, desired her tostate her business.

　　"I want Mr. Kemp," said Sally.

　　The office-boy scratched his cheek dourly with a ruler. No one wouldhave guessed, so austere was his aspect, that a moment before herentrance he had been trying to balance it on his chin, juggling thewhile with a pair of paper-weights. For, impervious as he seemed tohuman weaknesses, it was this lad's ambition one day to go intovaudeville.

　　"What name?" he said, coldly.

　　"Nicholas," said Sally. "I am Mr. Nicholas' sister."On a previous occasion when she had made this announcement, disastrousresults had ensued; but to-day it went well. It seemed to hit theoffice-boy like a bullet. He started convulsively, opened his mouth,and dropped the ruler. In the interval of stooping and recovering it hewas able to pull himself together. He had not been curious about Sally'sname. What he had wished was to have the name of the person for whom shewas asking repeated. He now perceived that he had had a bit of luck. Awearying period of disappointment in the matter of keeping thepaper-weights circulating while balancing the ruler, had left himpeevish, and it had been his intention to work off his ill-humour on theyoung visitor. The discovery that it was the boss's sister who wastaking up his time, suggested the advisability of a radical change oftactics. He had stooped with a frown: he returned to the perpendicularwith a smile that was positively winning. It was like the sun suddenlybursting through a London fog.