It was, for hours and hours, later on, as if she had somehow been lifted aloft, were floated and carried on some warm high tide beneath which stumbling blocks had sunk out of sight.

This came from her being again, for the time, in the enjoyment of confidence, from her knowing, as she believed, what to do.

All the next day, and all the next, she appeared to herself to know it.

She had a plan, and she rejoiced in her plan: this consisted of the light that, suddenly breaking into her restless reverie, had marked the climax of that vigil.

It had come to her as a question--"What if I've abandoned THEM, you know?
What if I've accepted too passively the funny form of our life ?" There would be a process of her own by which she might do differently in respect to Amerigo and Charlotte--a process quite independent of any process of theirs.