Throughout the long and weary day that followed she saw no sign of any human being. The wood was situate on a private estate, and the overgrown condition of the path had told her that it was not frequented even by those who had authority to cross the land. From the windows she could see only the trunks of beeches and the green tracery of leaves. The oppressive loneliness told even upon the uncommunicative Mrs. Rooks, who must have been unused to a solitary life, for that afternoon she came into the room where Lois was sitting. Lois had opportunity for studying her. She must have been in the region of fifty, a harsh, sour-faced woman, with a grievance against the world and its people. “It’s so pesky quiet that I should go off my head if I was here long,” she complained. Lois wondered if she could make the woman talk about other things than the loneliness of the wood. “Have you been in England a long time?” she asked. Mrs. Rooks had to master her natural repugnance to gossip before she spoke. “Only two years. We were in India before then. I don’t know what that has got to do with you, anyway.” “I heard you call your dogs by Indian names. ‘Mali’ means money, doesn’t it?” “Don’t you ask questions, young lady,” said the woman. “You behave yourself, and you won’t be badly treated. Act the fool, and you’ll----” She nodded significantly. “Of course ‘Mali’ means money. Do you _mallum_ the _bat_?” Lois shook her head smilingly. She guessed that she was being asked if she spoke or understood Hindustani. “Why am I kept here--can you tell me that?” “Because you’re not right in your head.” The reply would have driven Lois to a fury, but she had already guessed the excuse that would be made for her detention. “You’ve been hearing things and seeing things. An’ people who hear things, voices an’ all that, are batty.” Lois laughed quietly. “You know that I am not mad, Mrs. Rooks.” “Nobody thinks they are mad,” said Mrs. Rooks alarmingly. “That’s one of the symptoms. The minute a person thinks she’s sane, she’s mad! The doctor knows: he’s the cleverest man in the world.” She glanced back at the open door. Lois heard a steady echo of footsteps, as though somebody was pacing the floor. “Who is in the other room?” she asked, without expecting any very satisfactory reply. “A woman--she’s nutty.” “I thought I saw her the other evening,” said the girl with affected carelessness. “Weren’t you--talking to her in the yard?” The woman’s shrewd eyes looked her up and down. “You saw me quieting her with the whip. She gets fresh sometimes--most of ’em do. You will too.” Lois shuddered at this ominous prophecy. “Bless you, they don’t mind a licking! Lunatics ain’t human beings anyway, they’re just animals, the doctor says, and you’ve got to treat ’em like animals. That’s the only kind of treatment they understand.” Lois tried to veil her horror and disgust and felt that she had not wholly succeeded.