I

knees and her hair strove from its roots as if the whole length would stand and wave upright.⁠—You see⁠—she said to gain a moment. Suddenly her mind became a blank. Her body was heavy on her chair, ill-clothed, too warm, peevishly tingling with desires. She stirred, shrinking from her ugly, inexorable cheap clothes, her glasses, the mystery of her rigid stupidly done hair; how how how did people get expression into their hair consciously and not by accident? Why did Grace like her in spite of all these things, in spite of the evil thoughts which must show. She did. She had felt nothing, seen nothing. She dissembled her face and turned towards Grace, gazing past her into the darkness beyond the range of the firelight. Just outside the rim of her glasses Grace’s firelit face gleamed on the edge of the darkness half turned towards her. Leaping into her mind came the realisation that she was sitting there talking to someone⁠ ⁠… Marvellous to speak and hear a voice answer. Astounding; more marvellous and astounding than anything they could discuss. Grace must know this, even if she were unconscious of it⁠ ⁠… some little sound they could both hear, a little mark upon the stillness, scattering light and relief. She turned her eyes and met Grace’s, velvety, deeply sparkling, shedding admiration and tyrannous love, patiently waiting⁠—Well⁠—said Miriam, sleepily feeling for a thread of connected thought.⁠—D’you mean a difference about my taking aunt to call, asked Grace with fear in her eyes.⁠—No, my dear, said Miriam impatiently.⁠—Can’t you see you can’t do that anyhow?⁠⸺⁠They’ve only been there five years, said Grace in a low determined recitative⁠—We’ve lived in what’s almost the same neighbourhood, fifteen. So it’s our place to call first⁠—Miriam sighed harshly.⁠—That doesn’t make a scrap of difference she retorted flushing with anger.⁠—I wish I had your grasp of things Miriam dear, said Grace with gentle weariness.⁠—Well⁠—we’ve got tomorrow and Monday said Miriam getting up with an appearance of briskness and striking random notes on the piano. Grace laughed.⁠—I suppose we ought to light the gas she said getting up?⁠—Why?⁠⸺⁠Oh well⁠—Florrie will be coming in and asking why we’re sitting in the dark⁠—⁠What if she does?⁠⸺⁠Oh, I think