Mrs. Ogden began to hurry. She pattered round the room like a terrier on a scent; garments fell from her nerveless fingers, the hair-brush clattered on to the floor. She eyed her husband in a scared way; her conscience smote her, she had felt too tired to use proper economy last week. The books, the books, the books, what would they come to? She began cleaning her teeth. Colonel Ogden watched her languidly from the bed. His red, puffy face looked ridiculous against the pillow; a little smile lifted his moustache. She turned and saw him, and stopped with the tooth-brush half way to her mouth. She felt suddenly disgusted and outraged and shy. In a flash her mind took in the room. There on the chair lay his loose, shabby garments, some of them natural coloured Jaeger. And then his cholera belt! It hung limply suspended over the arm of the chair, like the wraith of a concertina. On the table by his side of the bed lay a half-smoked pipe. His bath sponge was elbowing her as she washed; his masculine personality pervaded everything; the room reeked of it. She went on cleaning her teeth mechanically, taking great care to do as her dentist bade her--up and down and then across and get the brush well back in your mouth; that was the way to preserve your teeth. Up and down and then across--disgusting! What she was doing was ugly and detestable. Why should he lie in the bed and smile? Why should he be in the bed at all--why should he be in the room at all? Why hadn't they taken a house with an extra bedroom, or at least with a room large enough for two beds? What was he doing there now? He ought not to be there _now_; that sort of thing was all very well for the young--but for people of their age! The repellent familiarities! She gathered her dressing-gown more tightly around her; she felt like a virgin whose privacy has suffered a rude intrusion. Turning, she made to leave the room. "Where are you going, Mary?" Colonel Ogden sat up. "To have my bath." "But I haven't shaved yet." "You can wait until I have had _my_ bath." She heard herself and marvelled. Would the heavens fall? Would the ground open and swallow her up? She hurried away before her courage failed. In the bath-room she slipped the bolt and turned the key, and sighed a sigh of relief. Alone--she was alone. She turned on the water. A reckless daring seized her; let the hot water run, let it run until the bath was full to the brim; for once she would have an injuriously hot bath; she would wallow in it, stay in it, take her time. She never got enough hot water; now she would take it _all_--let his bath be tepid for once, let him wait on her convenience, let him come thumping at the door, coarse, overbearing, foolish creature!