On a nail under the lady in pink hung the key of the wardrobe.

She took it down and opened the great press.

From a little drawer she took fifty pounds (all she had in the world), relocked the door, and turned to hang up the key.

The marks of tears were still on her face, but she smiled.

Then she paused, hesitated.
"Fifty pounds for a lover! A noble reward!" she said, and opened the wardrobe and returned the notes to the drawer, where Em might find them.
Once in her own room, she arranged the few articles she intended to take tomorrow, burnt her old letters, and then went back to the front room to look at the time.