"Now, you must go," the little girl said at last. And Judith went
out of the room at once--without waiting or looking back, though
she knew the white figure did not stir till she was out of sight.

It was not until she had reached the second floor that the change
came upon her. It was a great change and a curious one. The
Closed Room became as far away as all other places and things had
seemed when she had stood upon the roof feeling the nearness of
the blueness and the white clouds--as when she had looked round
and found herself face to face with the child in the Closed Room.
She suddenly realized things she had not known before. She knew
that she had heard no voice when the little girl spoke to
her--she knew that it had happened, that it was she only who had
lifted the doll--who had taken out the toys--who had arranged the
low table for their feast, putting all the small service upon
it--and though they had played with such rapturous enjoyment and
had laughed and feasted--what had they feasted on? That she could
not recall--and not once had she touched or been touched by the
light hand or white dress--and though they seemed to express
their thoughts and intentions freely she had heard no voice at
all. She was suddenly bewildered and stood rubbing her hand over
her forehead and her eyes--but she was happy--as happy as when
she had fallen awake in her sleep--and was no more troubled or
really curious than she would have been if she had had the same
experience every day of her life.

"Well, you must have been having a good time playing up-stairs,"
Jane Foster said when she entered the big kitchen. "This is going
to do you good, Judy. Looks like she'd had a day in the country,