English people--even if she had not been too shy to exhibit her large hands and her stupidity at cards. So they were going to play cards, actually cards. The room felt cold to her in her long suppressed anger and misery. She began to wish the Pinners would go. Sitting by the fire shivering and torpid she listened to Mrs. Pinner's outcries and the elaboration between the rounds of jests that she felt were weekly jests. Sitting there dully listening she began to have a sort of insight into the way these jests were made, it was a thing that could be cultivated. Her tired brain experimented. Certain things she heard she knew she would remember; she felt she would repeat them--with an air of originality. They would seem very brilliant in any of her circles--though the girls did that sort of thing rather well; but in a less "refined" way; that was true! This was the sort of thing the girls did; only their way was not half so clever ... if she did, everyone would wonder what was the matter with her; and she would not be able to keep it up, without a great deal of practice; and it would keep out something else ... but perhaps for some people there was something in it; it was their way. It had always been Alma's way a little. Only now she did it better. Perhaps ... it was like Chopin's shape.... They do not know how angry I have been ... they are quite amiable. I am simply horrid ... wanting Alma to know I know she's wrong quite as much as I care for Chopin; perhaps more ... no; if _anybody_ had _played_, I should be happy; perfectly happy ... what does that mean ... because real musicians are not at all nice people ... "a queer soft lot." But why are the English so awful about music? They are poets. Why are they not musicians? I hope I shall never hear Alma play Beethoven. As long as she plays Chopin like that I shall never like her.... Perhaps English people ought never to play, only to listen to music. They are not innocent enough to play. They cannot forget themselves. At ten o'clock they trooped into the kitchen. Miriam, half asleep and starving for food, eagerly ate large biscuits too hungry to care much for Alma's continued resentment of her failure to join the card party and her unconcealed contempt of her sudden return to animation at the prospect of nourishment. She had never felt so hungry. 9