Miriam let herself cautiously in. The whole house was hers; she was a _boarder_; but the right to linger freely in any part of it was bought by Sissie's French lessons and being Sissie's teacher meant that the Baileys could approach familiarly at any moment ... all her privileges were bought with a heavy price, here and at Wimpole Street ... it's us; our family; always masquerading. But the lessons made opportunities of being affable to the Baileys; removing the need for seeking them out purposely from time to time. Cut and dried. I've _pa_triotic ballads cut and dried. I'm cut and dried, everybody thinks. Moving and speaking stiffly, the stamp of my family, the minute anything is expected of me. Nobody knows me. I grow more and more unknown and more and more like what people think of me.... But _I_ know; and things go on coming; scraps of other people's things. No one in the world could imagine what it is to me to have this house; the fag-end of the Baileys' stock-in-trade. God couldn't know, completely. There's something wrong about it; but damn, I can't help it. In my secret self I should love a prison. Walls. What _are_ walls? If she scuffed her muddy shoes too cheerfully someone would appear at the dining-room door. Beyond the gaslight pouring down on to the smeary marble of the hall table and glimmering against the threatening dining-room door the dim staircase beckoned her up into darkness. A few steps and she would be going upstairs. Where? What for? Hgh--HEE! at the far end of the passage beyond the hall.... There was a line of bright light there, coming through the chink of the little door usually hidden in the darkness beyond where the Baileys disappeared down the basement stairs. Then there was a _room_ there.... The little door was pushed open and a man's figure stood outlined against the bright light and disappeared, shutting the door. There had been a table and a lamp upon it ... the sound of the laugh rang in her head; a single lively deep-chested note followed by a falsetto note that curved hysterically up. Men; gentlemen. How long had they been there? They would not stay. How had they come? Where had Mrs. Bailey found them? Had they already found out that it was not their sort of house? Whom were they afraid of shocking with their refinement and freedom? They were making a bright little world in there by feeling themselves surrounded by people who would be shocked. They did not know there was someone there they could not shock.... She imagined herself in the doorway ... _hullo_! Fancy you _here_.... The dining-room door had opened and Mrs. Bailey was standing in the hall with the door open behind her. Miriam was not prepared with a refusal of the invitation to come in. She glanced over Mrs. Bailey's shoulder and saw the two girls sitting at the fireside. Two letters on the hall table addressed to the Norwegian told her that the Baileys were alone. She yielded to Mrs. Bailey's delighted manner and went in.