obscured half the width of each high window and the London light screened by the high opposing houses fell dimly on the dingy books and periodicals scattered about the table. Miriam stood by the mantelpiece her feet deep in the black sheepskin rug and held out her hands towards the fire. They felt cold again the instant she withdrew them from the blaze. The hall clock gonged softly twice. The legal afternoon had begun. Anyone finding her in here now would think she was idling. She glanced at the deep dark shabby leather armchair near by and imagined the relief that would come to her whole frame, if she could relax into it for five undisturbed minutes. The ringing of the front door bell sent her hurrying back to her room. The sound of reading came from the den--a word-mouthing word-slurring monotonous drawl--thurrah-thurrah-thurrah; thurrah thurrah ... a single beat, on and on, the words looped and forced into it without any discrimination, the voice dropping uniformly at the end of each sentence ... _thrah_.... An Early Victorian voice giving reproachful instruction to a child ... a class of board school children reciting.... Perhaps they had changed their minds about going out.... Miriam sat with her hands tucked between her knees musing with her eyes fixed on the thin sheets of tin and gold ... extraordinary to read any sort of text like that ... but there was something in it, something nice and good ... listening carefully you would get most of the words. It would be better to listen to than a person who read with intelligent modulations, as if they had written the thing themselves; like some men read ... and irritatingly intelligent women ... who knew they were intelligent. But there ought to be clear ... enunciation. Not expression--that was like commenting as you read; getting at the person you were reading to ... who might not want to comment in the same way. Reading, with expression, really hadn't any expression. How wonderful--of course. Mrs. Orly's reading had an expression; a shape. It was exactly like the way they looked at things; exactly; everything was there; all the things they agreed about, and the things he admired in her ... things that by this time she knew he admired.... She was conscious of these things ... that was the difference between her and her sister, who had exactly the same things but had never been admired ... standing side by side exactly alike, the sister like a child--clear with a sharp fresh edge; Mrs. Orly with a different wisdom ... softened and warm and blurred ... conscious, and always busy distracting your attention, but with clear eyes like a child, too. 12 Presently the door opened quietly and Mrs. Orly appeared in the doorway. "Miss Hens'n" she whispered urgently. Miriam turned to meet her flushed face. "Oh Miss Hens'n" she pursued absently, "if Mudie's send d'you mind lookin' and choosin' us something nice?" "Oh" said Miriam provisionally with a smile.