Out in the street Miriam felt embarrassed. The sunset glow broke through wherever there was a gap towards the north-west, and flooded a strip of the street and struck a building. The presence of the girls added a sharpness to its beauty, especially the presence of Mag who felt the spring even in London. But both of them seemed entirely oblivious. They marched along at a great rate, very upright and swift--like grenadiers--why grenadiers? Like grenadiers, making her hurry in a way that increased the discomfort of her hard cheap down-at-heel shoes. Their high-heeled shoes were in perfect condition and they went on and on laughing and jesting as if there were no spring evening all round them. She wanted to stroll, and stop at every turn of the road. She grew to dislike them both long before Kennett Street was reached, their brisk gait as they walked together in step, leaving her to manoeuvre the passing of pedestrians on the narrow pavements of the side streets, the self-confident set of their this-season's clothes, "line" clothes, like everyone else was wearing, everyone this side of the west-end; Oxford Street clothes ... and to long to be wandering home alone through the leafy squares. Were people who lived together always like this, always brisk and joking and keeping it up? They got on so well together ... and she got on so well too with them. "No one ever feels a third" Mag had said. I am tired, too tired. They are stronger than I am. I feel dead; and they are perfectly fresh. "D'you know I believe I feel too played out to read" she said at their door. "Then come in and smoke" said Mag taking her arm. "The night is yet young." CHAPTER X 1