Judy reached London at ten o'clock one night, tired but in the best of spirits. She felt that she was returning, thanks to Stephen, to a new life. Eaton Square no longer seemed to her a prison. Money had opened the doors of that solemn house. Millie's powers of suppression and repression had been lessened. Noel's departure for Germany no longer hung over her like a tragedy. What was there to prevent her going to see him half way through that interminable year?
She felt that she had never appreciated money before. It cut binding ropes like a knife. It gave one seven league boots. A pair of wings, too. People who belittled its powers were either hypocrites or fools. Why did old people prefer to make young people glad when they were dead instead of glad while they were alive?
After helping to disentangle her luggage, Noel took her back to the dark house in Eaton Square. A light had been left burning half way up the stairs, but Millie, as a protest against this trip that she had never approved of—"It isn't as
