that she would be upstairs in that great bare attic again to-night. In
repose her face looked pinched. There was something about the nose and
mouth--Miriam mused . . . _frugal_--John Gilpin's wife--how sleepy
she was.



3


The conversation was growing boisterous. She took courage to raise her
head towards the range of girls opposite to her. Those quite near to
her she could not scrutinise. Some influence coming to her from these
German girls prevented her risking with them any meeting of the eyes
that was not brought about by direct speech. But she felt them. She
felt Emma Bergmann's warm plump presence close at her side and liked to
take food handed by her. She was conscious of the pink bulb of Minna
Blum's nose shining just opposite to her, and of the way the light
caught the blond sheen of her exquisitely coiled hair as she turned her
always smiling face and responded to the louder remarks with, "Oh, thou
_dear_ God!" or "Is it possible!" "How charming, _charming_,"
or "What in life dost thou say, rascal!"

Next to her was the faint glare of Elsa Speier's silent sallowness. Her
clear-threaded nimbus of pallid hair was the lowest point in the range
of figures across the table. She darted quick glances at one and
another without moving her head, and Miriam felt that her pale eyes
fully met would be cunning and malicious.

After Elsa the "English" began with Judy. Miriam guessed when she heard