After a painful hour they parted and went their ways. Bill, in dudgeon,
back to barracks; Mame with a heartache to Half Moon Street. All the
way up Piccadilly she was accompanied by two voices. Mame Durrance
you are a blame fool, said one. Stick it, girl, said the other. You
are throwing away the chance of your life, said the Go-getter. If you
really care for the boy, you just can’t marry him, said the Idealist.
Never had she felt so miserable as when she let herself into the flat.
Luckily Violet was not there. She was able to relieve her overwrought
feelings with a little private howl. Then she felt better. In fact she
was able to sit down and compose a few halting lines to Bill embodying
her final decision and giving her reasons for it. That achieved, she
went to her bedroom and fetched the engagement ring which ten days ago
had given her such joy.