There was only one thing impossible, and that was that she should go back to Knightsbridge. But she did not know what to do. The notion of walking about the streets all night was appalling; still it was preferable to going back. Anything was better than going back. She would rather sit down by the side of the way and die than anything else. But she was she felt, young and strong and full of life; and as to interfering with her existence, the thought was as little to be entertained as that of returning to Knightsbridge; going back was her ideal of absolute impossibility.
She wandered on now she did not know, she did not care, where. She was tired by this time, and would have liked to sit down. She could not sit down by the side of the street. She did not know of any place to which she could go. She had only one idea, and that was to keep moving; for she had heard that the police insisted on suspicious people moving on, and she supposed she must be a suspicious-looking person, for no one would take her in. So she kept on.
She had no notion of what would become of her. She had not thought, she did not think, of what would happen when she could go on no further. All she knew was, that back to Knightsbridge she would not go. She was thirsty, and would have given half-a-crown for a glass of water, but she did not know where or how to get it. She felt hunted and dismayed.
So much was she shocked and discouraged by the last interview that she failed to observe she had taken the wrong turning, and was going towards the Thames. She adopted no regular course, followed no regular track. Now she crossed a street aimlessly. Then she as aimlessly crossed back again. The wheels became less, and the feet more, frequent. The streets were thronged, and in a misty, half-unconscious way she realised for the first time the enormous magnitude of London. We are told one half the world does not know how the other half lives. One half of London has never seen the district in which the other half dwells.
It was a matter of perfect indifference to her which way she went, so long as it was not to Knightsbridge. Of course going towards Knightsbridge meant nothing; for when one takes a step due north, one is going towards the North Pole. The moment she came anywhere near Knightsbridge she should know it--then it would be time to change her direction; but until then she had only to keep moving on according to police regulations.
But how much longer could she continue to walk about? She had been brought up in London, and was not accustomed to more walking than falls to the lot of an average London-reared girl. She had now been four hours wandering about, and had endured three serious disappointments about getting somewhere to rest for the night. She was indifferent to her fate. She assumed that at one time or another something would happen to decide it; but what that something might be, or what was likely to happen, she could not guess. She did not try to imagine.
It was now growing dusk; but by this time she was too worn out and too miserable to be any longer horrified at the notion of being alone in the dusk or dark of London streets. She had only two desires, and these were to get a drink of water and find some place where she might sit down and rest ten minutes.
It seemed to her that if she might have just ten minutes' rest, and a drink of water, she should be able to face any danger, encounter any fatigue. But where should she turn? Whither should she go?
Despair had given way to indifference, and she now did not care what became of her. By instinct she avoided the crowded thoroughfares and wandered through a network of quiet by-streets.
Minute succeeded minute, and silence gradually fell upon the streets through which she passed, until the only footfall which kept company with her own was that of the policeman. She was footsore and hungry and weak, but still she kept on. Part of the time, it seemed to her, she must have been asleep as she walked, for she was always conscious of passing into a condition of increased wakefulness when anyone passed her.