The ticket would take her back to Cornwall and Thalassa.

Thalassa would help and shield her.
The gilt hands of a church clock opposite the square pointed to half-past eight.

She knew that the morning express for Cornwall started shortly after ten, but she did not know what part of London she was in or the direction of Paddington.

Animated by a new hope, she left her seat and asked the cabman for directions.
The cabman looked at her with a ruminating eye.

That eye, with unfathomable perspicacity, seemed to pry into her empty pockets and pierce her penniless state.