It was no shock to her at last to issue from the lodging beggared. She had felt so long that the situation was inevitable that she accepted its coming almost apathetically. She faced the usual day, mounting the flights of stairs, and drooping down them, a shade the weaker for the absence of the pitiful breakfast. It was not until one o'clock that the hopelessness of routine was admitted. Then, the prospect of the journey to reach her room again was intimidating enough; she did not even return to Pattenden's; she went slowly back and lay down on the bed, managing to forget her hunger intermittently in snatches of sleep.
Towards evening the pangs faded altogether. But incidents of years ago recurred to her without any effort of the will, impelling her to cry feebly at the recollection of some unkind answer that she had once given, at a hurt expression that she saw again on her father's face. During the night her troubles were reflected in her dreams, and at morning she woke hollow-eyed.
It was labour to her to dress. But she did not feel hungry, she felt only dazed. She drank a glassful of water from the bottle on the wash-hand-stand, and, driven to exertion by necessity, took her way to the publishers', moving among the crowd torpidly, not acutely conscious of her surroundings.
Mr. Collins exclaimed at her appearance and strongly advised her to go home and rest.
"You don't look the thing at all," he said with genuine concern. "Stay indoors to-day; you won't do any good if you're not well."
She smiled wistfully at his idea that staying indoors would improve matters.
"I shan't be any better for not going out," she said. "Yes, give me the list. Only don't expect me to come in and report; I shan't feel much like doing that."
He wrote a few names for her.
"I shan't give you many to-day," he said. "Here are half a dozen; try these!"
"Thank you," said Mary; "I'll try these." She went down, and out into the street once more. The rattle of the traffic roared in her ears; the jam and jostle of the pavements confused her. She felt like a child buffeted by giants, and could have lifted her arms, wailing to God to let the end be now—to let her die quickly and quietly, and without much pain.