Alex looked uncomprehending, and the woman eyed her with scarcely veiled contempt and added, "Supper, or anything?"
"Oh—yes. I'd better come in time for dinner—for supper, I mean."
"Yes, Miss. Seven o'clock will do you, I suppose?"
Alex thought it sounded very early, but she did not feel that she cared at all, and said that seven would do quite well.
She wondered if there were any questions which she ought to ask, but could think of none, and she was rather afraid of the strident-voiced, hard-faced woman.
But Mrs. Hoxton seemed to be quite satisfied, and pulled open the door as though it was obvious that the interview had come to an end.
"Good afternoon," said Alex.
"Afternoon," answered the landlady, as she slammed the door again, almost before Alex was on the pavement of Malden Road. She went away with a strangely sinking heart. To what had she committed herself?
All the arguments which Alex had been brooding over seemed to crumble away from her now that she had taken definite action.
She repeated to herself again that Violet and Cedric did not want her, that Barbara did not want her, that there was no place for her anywhere, and that it was best for her to make her own arrangements and spare them all the necessity of viewing her in the light of a problem.