With a passion she clung to the paSt. But as she dreamed of it, she heard the tram-car grinding round a bend, rumbling dully, she saw it draw into sight, and hum nearer. It sidled round the loop at the terminus, and came to a standstill, looming above her. Some shadowy grey people stepped from the far end, the conductor was walking in the puddles, swinging round the pole.

She mounted into the wet, comfortless tram, whose floor was dark with wet, whose windows were all steamed, and she sat in suspense. It had begun, her new existence.

One other passenger mounted — a sort of charwoman with a drab, wet coat. Ursula could not bear the waiting of the tram.

The bell clanged, there was a lurch forward. The car moved cautiously down the wet street.