She wanted to have the whole world in and be reconciled. But she knew
that if anyone came, she would contract and the expression of her face
would change and they would hate her or be indifferent. She knew that if
she even moved she would be changed.

"Get up."

She listened for a while to two voices across the landing. Millie's
thick and plaintive with her hay-fever and Bertha's thin and cold and
level and reassuring.... Bertha's voice was like the morning, clean and
cool.... Then she got up and shut the door.

The sky was a vivid grey--against its dark background the tops of heavy
masses of cloud were standing up just above the roof-line of the houses
beyond the neighbouring gardens. The trees and the grey roofs and the
faces of the houses were staringly bright. They were absolutely stiff,
nothing was moving, there were no shadows.

A soft distant rumble of thunder came as she was dressing.... The storm
was still going on... what an extraordinary time of day for thunder...
the excitement was not over... they were still a besieged party... all
staying at the Bienenkorb together.... How beautiful it sounded rumbling
away over the country in the morning. When she had finished struggling
with her long thick hair and put the hairpins into the solid coil on
the top of her head and tied the stout doubled door-knocker plait at her
neck, she put on the rose-madder blouse. The mirror was lower and twice
as large as the one in the garret, larger than the one she had shared
with Harriett. "How jolly I look," she thought, "jolly and big somehow.
Mother would like me this morning. I _am_ German-looking to-day, pinky
red and yellow hair. But I haven't got a German expression and I don't
smile like a German.... She smiled.... Silly, baby-face! Doll! Never
mind! I look jolly. She looked gravely into her eyes.... There's
something about my expression." Her face grew wistful. "It isn't vain to
like it. It's something. It isn't me. It's something I am, somehow. Oh,
_do_ stay," she said, "do be like that always." She sighed and turned
away saying in Harriett's voice, "Oo--crumbs! This is no place for
_me."_

13

The sky seen from the summer-house was darker still. There were no
massed clouds, nothing but a hard even dark copper-grey, and away
through the gap the distant country was bright like a little painted
scene. On the horizon the hard dark sky shut down. At intervals thunder
rumbled evenly, far away. Miriam stood still