"Exactly. You feel like a sprite you are so light." "And like a poet though you don't know it." "You feel like a sprite you are so light, and you feel so strong and capable and so broadshouldered you could knock down a policeman. Jan and I knocked down several last night." "Yes; and it is not only that; think of never having to brush your skirt." "I know. It would be bliss." "I spend half my life brushing my skirt. If I miss a day I notice it--if I miss two days the office notices it. If I miss three days the public notices it." "La vie est dure; pour les femmes." "You don't want to be a man Jan." "Oh I do, sometimes. They have the best of everything all round." "_I_ don't. I wouldn't be a man for anything. I wouldn't have a man's--_consciousness_, for anything." "Why not asthore?" "They're too absolutely pig-headed and silly...." "_Isn't_ she intolerant?" Miriam sat flaring. That was not the right answer. There was something; and they must know it; but they would not admit it. "Then you can both really ride?" "We do nothing else; we've given up walking; we no longer walk up and downstairs; we ride." Miriam laughed her delight. "I can quite understand; it alters everything. I realised that this afternoon at the school. To be able to bicycle would make life utterly different; on a bicycle you feel a different person; nothing can come near you, you forget who you are. Aren't you glad you are alive to-day, when all these things are happening?" "What things little one?" "Well cycling and things. You know girls when I'm thirty I'm going to cut my hair short and wear divided skirts." Both faces came up. "Why on earth?" "I can't face doing my hair and brushing skirts and keeping more or less in the fashion, that means about two years behind because I never realise fashions till they're just going, even if I could afford to,--all my life." "Then why not do it now?" "Because all my friends and relatives would object. It would worry them too--they would feel quite sure then I should never marry--and they still entertain hopes, secretly." "Don't you want to marry--ever; ever?" "Well--it would mean giving up this life." "Yes, I know. I agree there. That can't be faced." "I should think _not_. Aren't you going to have any pudding?" "But why thirty? Why not thirty-one?" "Because nobody cares what you do when you're thirty; they've all given up hope by that time. Aren't you two going to have any pudding?" "No. But that is no reason why you should not." "What a good idea--to have just one dish and coffee." "That's what we think; and it's cheap." "Well, I couldn't have had any dinner at all only I'm cadging dinner with you to-morrow." "What would you have done?" "An egg, at an A.B.C." "How fond you are of A.B.C's." "I love them." "What is it that you love about them." "Chiefly I think their dowdiness. The food is honest; not showy, and they are so blissfully dowdy." Both girls laughed.