"By the way," Mrs. Sampson continued, "speaking of Mrs. Black
reminds me that the work on the extension is to begin next week."

"The what?" it was Mrs. Manstey's turn to ask.

"The extension," said Mrs. Sampson, nodding her head in the
direction of the ignored magnolia. "You knew, of course, that
Mrs. Black was going to build an extension to her house? Yes,
ma'am. I hear it is to run right back to the end of the yard.
How she can afford to build an extension in these hard times I
don't see; but she always was crazy about building. She used to
keep a boarding-house in Seventeenth Street, and she nearly
ruined herself then by sticking out bow-windows and what not; I
should have thought that would have cured her of building, but I
guess it's a disease, like drink. Anyhow, the work is to begin
on Monday."

Mrs. Manstey had grown pale. She always spoke slowly, so the
landlady did not heed the long pause which followed. At last
Mrs. Manstey said: "Do you know how high the extension will be?"

"That's the most absurd part of it. The extension is to be built
right up to the roof of the main building; now, did you ever?"

"Mrs. Manstey paused again. "Won't it be a great annoyance to
you, Mrs. Sampson?" she asked.

"I should say it would. But there's no help for it; if people
have got a mind to build extensions there's no law to prevent