She shuffled to the door, and Lilly reached for her hat, on which she must have beep lying, for it was more out of shape than ever.
"I shall have to get a new one now," and she tried to calculate how much she could afford to give out of her narrow means.
The door opened and he came in, followed by the old cook.
Lilly was no longer frightened.... Everything seemed far, far off--he too. Nothing seemed to matter.
"Now she's ready to be put into a cab," suggested the cook.
"Your presence here is not required any more!" he thundered at her.
The cook ventured to mumble an objection.
"Go!" he roared. And she scuffled out.
Lilly's sensations were now only those of languid fear.
"I wonder what he means to do with me?" she thought. Her own fate scarcely interested her at all.