e left him to struggle out of his clothes as
well as he could, which Pa did with a skill worthy of his best days. The
cunning which replaces competence had shown him how the braces may be
made to do their own work, how the shirt may with one hand be so
manipulated as to be drawn swiftly over the head... Pa was adept at
undressing. He was in bed within five minutes, after a panting,
exhausted interval during which he sat in a kind of trance, and was then
proudly as usual knocking upon the floor with his walking-stick for
Jenny to come and tuck him in for the night.

Jenny came, gave him a big kiss, and went back to the kitchen, where she
resumed work upon her hat. It had lost its interest for her. She
stitched quickly and roughly, not as one interested in needlework or
careful for its own sake of the regularity of the stitch. Ordinarily she
was accurate: to-night her attention was elsewhere. It had come back to
the rows, because there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes
it ever so much more important than it really is. Loneliness with happy
thoughts is perhaps an ideal state; but no torment could be greater than
loneliness with thoughts that wound. Jenny's thoughts wounded her. The
mood of complacency was gone: that of shame and discontent was upon her.
Distress was uppermost in her mind--not the petulant wriggling of a
spoilt child, but the sober consciousness of pain in herself and in
others. In vain did Jenny give little gasps of annoyance, intended by
her humour to disperse the clouds. The gasps and exclamations were
unavailing. She was angry, chagrined, miserable. ...At last she could
bear the tension no longer, but threw down her work, rose, and walked
impatiently about the kitchen.

"Oh, _do_ shut up!" she cried to her insistent thoughts. "Enough to
drive anybody off their nut. And they're not worth it, either of them.
Em's as stupid as she can be, thinking about herself.... And as for
Alf--anybody'd think I'd tricked him. I haven't. I've gone out with him;
but what's that? Lots of girls go out with fellows for months, and
nobody expects them to marry. The girls may want it; but the fellows
don't. They don't want to get settled down. And I don't blame them. Why
is Alf different? I suppose it's me that's different. I'm not like other
girls...." That notion cheered her. "No: I'm not like other girls. I
want my bit of fun. I've never had any. And just because I don't want to
settle down and have a lot o