school. . . . They would laugh at her. . . . She began to repeat the
English alphabet. . . . She doubted whether, faced with a class, she
could reach the end without a mistake. . . . She reached Z and went on
to the parts of speech.



5


There would be a moment when she must have an explanation with the
Fraulein. Perhaps she could tell her that she found the teaching was
beyond her scope and then find a place somewhere as a servant. She
remembered things she had heard about German servants--that whenever
they even dusted a room they cleaned the windows and on Sundays they
waited at lunch in muslin dresses and afterwards went to balls. She
feared even the German servants would despise her. They had never been
allowed into the kitchen at home except when there was jam-making . . .
she had never made a bed in her life. . . . A shop? But that would mean
knowing German and being quick at giving change. Impossible. Perhaps
she could find some English people in Hanover who would help her. There
was an English colony she knew, and an English church. But that would
be like going back. That must not happen. She would rather stay abroad
on any terms--away from England--English people. She had scented
something, a sort of confidence, everywhere, in her hours in Holland,
the brisk manner of the German railway officials and the serene
assurance of the travelling Germans she had seen, confirmed her
impression. Away out here, the sense of imminent catastrophe that had
shadowed all her life so far, had disappeared. Even here in this dim
carriage, with disgrace ahead she felt that there was freedom somewhere