-boy shouted down the street; an omnibus ceased
and lurched on again with the heave of duty once more shouldered; the
dullness of the sounds suggested that a fog had risen since her return,
if, indeed, a fog has power to deaden sound, of which fact, she could
not be sure at the present moment. It was the sort of fact Ralph Denham
knew. At any rate, it was no concern of hers, and she was about to dip
a pen when her ear was caught by the sound of a step upon the stone
staircase. She followed it past Mr. Chippen's chambers; past Mr.
Gibson's; past Mr. Turner's; after which it became her sound. A postman,
a washerwoman, a circular, a bill--she presented herself with each of
these perfectly natural possibilities; but, to her surprise, her mind
rejected each one of them impatiently, even apprehensively. The step
became slow, as it was apt to do at the end of the steep climb, and
Mary, listening for the regular sound, was filled with an intolerable
nervousness. Leaning against the table, she felt the knock of her heart
push her body perceptibly backwards and forwards--a state of nerves
astonishing and reprehensible in a stable woman. Grotesque fancies took
shape. Alone, at the top of the house, an unknown person approaching
nearer and nearer--how could she escape? There was no way of escape.
She did not even know whether that oblong mark on the ceiling was a
trap-door to the roof or not. And if she got on to the roof--well, there
was a drop of sixty feet or so on to the pavement. But she sat perfectly
still, and when the knock sounded, she got up directly and opened the
door without hesitation. She saw a tall figure outside, with something
ominous to her eyes in the look of it.

"What do you want?" she said, not recognizing the face in the fitful
light of the staircase.

"Mary? I'm Katharine Hilbery!"

Mary's self-possession returned almost excessively, and her welcome was
decidedly cold, as if she must recoup herself for this ridiculous
waste of emotion. She moved her green-shaded lamp to another table,
and covered "Some Aspects of the Democratic State" with a sheet of
blotting-paper.

"Why can't they leave me alone?" she thought bitterly, connecting
Katharine and Ralph in a conspiracy to take from her even this hour of
solitary study, even this poor little defence against the world. And, as
she smoothed down the sheet of blotting-paper over the manuscript,
she braced herself to resist Katharine, whose presence struck her