was fastened. She looked at herself in the glass with the
curious stiffening of her face generally caused by looking in the glass.

"Am I in a fit state to encounter my fellow-beings?" she asked. "I
forget which way it is--but they find black animals very rarely have
coloured babies--it may be the other way round. I have had it so often
explained to me that it is very stupid of me to have forgotten again."

She moved about the room acquiring small objects with quiet force,
and fixing them about her--a locket, a watch and chain, a heavy gold
bracelet, and the parti-coloured button of a suffrage society. Finally,
completely equipped for Sunday tea, she stood before Rachel, and smiled
at her kindly. She was not an impulsive woman, and her life had schooled
her to restrain her tongue. At the same time, she was possessed of an
amount of good-will towards others, and in particular towards the young,
which often made her regret that speech was so difficult.

"Shall we descend?" she said.

She put one hand upon Rachel's shoulder, and stooping, picked up a pair
of walking-shoes with the other, and placed them neatly side by side
outside her door. As they walked down the passage they passed many pairs
of boots and shoes, some black and some brown, all side by side, and all
different, even to the way in which they lay together.

"I always think that people are so like their boots," said Miss Allan.
"That is Mrs. Paley's--" but as she spoke the door opened, and Mrs.
Paley rolled out in her chair, equipped also for tea.

She greeted Miss Allan and Rachel.

"I was just saying that people are so like their boots," said Miss
Allan. Mrs. Paley did not hear. She repeated it more loudly still. Mrs.
Paley did not hear. She repeated it a third time. Mrs. Paley heard, but
she did not understand. She was apparently about to repeat it for the
fourth time, when Rachel suddenly said something inarticulate, and
disappeared down the corridor. This misunderstanding, which involved
a complete block in the passage, seemed to her unbearable. She walked
quickly and blindly in the opposite direction, and found herself at the
end of a _cul_ _de_ _sac_. There was a window, and a table and a chair
in the window, and upon the table stood a rusty inkstand, an ashtray, an
old copy of a French newspaper, and a pen with a broken nib. Rachel
sat down, as if to study the French newspaper, but a tear fell on the
blurred French print, raising a soft blot. She