Not now did Jenny shrink from the running tide. Her one thought was to get home; and she had no inclination to think of what lay between her and Kennington Park. She hardly understood what Keith said as he rowed to the steps. She saw the bridge looming, its black shadow cutting the water that sparkled so dully in the moonlight; and then she saw the steps leading from the bridge to the river’s edge. They were alongside; she was ashore; and Keith was pressing her hand in parting. Still she could not look at him until she was at the top of the steps, when she turned and raised her hand in farewell.
ii
She knew she had to walk for a little way down the road in the direction of her home, and then up a side street, where she had been told that she would find the motor car awaiting her. And for some seconds she could not bear the idea of speaking to the chauffeur, from the sense that he must know exactly how long she had been on board the yacht. The hesitation caused her to linger, as the cold air had caused her to think. It was as though she feared that when he was found the man would be impudent to her, and leer, behaving familiarly as he might have done to a common woman. Because she was alone and unprotected. It was terrible. Her secret filled her with the sense of irremediable guilt. Already she was staled with the evening’s excitement. She stopped and wavered, her shadow, so black and small, hesitating as she did. Could she walk home? She looked at the black houses, and listened to the terrifying sinister roar that continued faintly to fill the air. Could she go by tram? If she did—whatever she did—the man might wait for her all night, and Keith would know how cowardly she had been. It might even come to the ears of Lord Templecombe, and disgrace Keith before him. To go or to stay was equally to bring acute distress upon herself, the breathless shame of being thought disgraced for ever. Already it seemed to her that the shadows were peopled with observers ready to spy upon her, to seize her, to bear her away into hidden places...
At last, her mind resolved by her fears, which crowded upon her in a tumult, Jenny stepped fearfully forward. The car was there, dimly outlined, a single light visible to her eye. It was drawn upon at the side of the street; and the chauffeur was fast asleep, his head upon his arms, and his arms spread upon the steering-wheel.
“I say!” cried Jenny in a panic, her glance quickly over her shoulder at unseen dangers. “Wake up! Wake up!”
She stepped into the car, and it began to quiver with life as the engine was started. Then, as if drowned in the now familiar scent of the hanging bouquet, Jenny lay back once more in the soft cushions; bound for home, for Emmy and Alf and Pa; her evening’s excursion at an end, and only its sequel to endure.