side himself, quite unconsciously. She
looked at him. He was a phenomenon to her, not a human being: a sort of
creature, greedy.

'I like it very much,' she replied.

'Who do you like best downstairs?' he asked, standing tall and
glistening above her, with his glistening stiff hair erect.

'Who do I like best?' she repeated, wanting to answer his question, and
finding it difficult to collect herself. 'Why I don't know, I don't
know enough about them yet, to be able to say. Who do YOU like best?'

'Oh, I don't care--I don't like or dislike any of them. It doesn't
matter about me. I wanted to know about you.'

'But why?' she asked, going rather pale. The abstract, unconscious
smile in his eyes was intensified.

'I wanted to know,' he said.

She turned aside, breaking the spell. In some strange way, she felt he
was getting power over her.

'Well, I can't tell you already,' she said.

She went to the mirror to take out the hairpins from her hair. She
stood before the mirror every night for some minutes, brushing her fine
dark hair. It was part of the inevitable ritual of her life.

He followed her, and stood behind her. She was busy with bent head,
taking out the pins and shaking her warm hair loose. When she looked
up, she saw him in the glass standing behind her, watching
unconsciously, not consciously seeing her, and yet watching, with
finepupilled eyes that SEEMED to smile, and which were not really
smiling.

She started. It took all her courage for her to continue brushing her
hair, as usual, for her to pretend she was at her ease. She was far,
far from being at her ease with him. She beat her brains wildly for
something to say to him.

'What are your plans for tomorrow?' she asked nonchalantly, whilst her
heart was beating so furiously, her eyes were so bright with strange
nervousness, she felt he could not but observe. But she knew also that
he was completely blind, blind as a wolf looking at her. It was a
strange battle between her ordinary consciousness and his uncanny,
black-art consciousness.

'I don't know,' he replied, 'what would you like to do?'

He spoke emptily, his mind was sunk away.

'Oh,' she said, with easy protestation, 'I'm ready for
anything--anything will be fine for ME, I'm sure.'

And to herself she was saying: 'God, why am I so nervous--why are you
so nervous, you fool. If he sees it I'm done for forever--you KNOW
you're done for forever, if he sees the absurd state you're i