They were in the open at last. In the deepening twilight many people were going to and fro. In the distance soft dark masses of trees stood out against the sky in every direction. Not far away the ghostly frames of the set pieces reared against the sky made the open evening seem as prison-like as the enclosure they had just left. Round about the scaffolding of these pieces dense little crowds were collecting. “Don’t you want to see the fireworks?” “I want to get away from them.” “All right, we’ll get lost at once.” “It isn’t,” she explained a little breathlessly, in relief, suddenly respecting him, allowing him to thread a way for her through the increasing crowd towards the open evening, “that I don’t want to see the fireworks, but I simply can’t stand the noise.” “I see,” laughed Mr. Parrow gently. They were making towards the open evening along a narrow gravel pathway, like a garden pathway. Miriam hurried a little, fearing that the fireworks might begin before they got to a safe distance. “I never have been able to stand a sudden noise. It’s torture to me to walk along a platform where a train may suddenly shriek.” “I see. You’re afraid of the noise.” “It isn’t fear--I can’t describe it. It’s agony. It’s like pain. But much much worse than pain. It’s--it’s--annihilating.” “I see; that’s very peculiar.” Their long pathway was leading them towards a sweet-scented density, dim bowers and leafy arches appeared just ahead. “It was much worse even than it is now when I was a little thing. When we went to the seaside I used to sit in the train nearly dead until it had screamed and started. And there was a teacher who sneezed--a noise like a hard scream--at school. She used to go on sneezing--twenty times or so. I was only six and I dreaded going to school just for that. Once I cried and they took me out of the room. I’ve never told anyone. Nobody knows.” “You’ve told me.” “Yes.” “It’s very interesting. You shan’t go anywhere near the fireworks.” 2 A large rosy flare, wavering steadily against the distant trees showed up for a moment the shapes and traceries of climbing plants surrounding their retreat. A moment afterwards with a dull boom a group of white stars shot up into the air and hovered, melting one by one as the crowd below moaned and crackled its applause. Miriam laughed abruptly. “That’s jolly. How clever people are. But it’s much better up here. It’s like not being too near at the theatre.” “I think we’ve got the best view certainly.” “But we shall miss the set pieces.” “The people down there won’t see the rosary.” “What’s that black thing on our left down there?” “That’s the toboggan run. We ought to go on that.” “What is it like?” “It’s fine; you just rush down. We must try it.” “Not for worlds.” Mr. Parrow laughed. “Oh you must try the toboggan; there’s no noise about that.” “I really couldn’t.” “Really?”