THE WINDOW

She hoped he would not bang his books on thefloor above their heads, she thought, still thinkinghow annoying Charles Tansley was. For neitherof them slept well; they were excitable children,and since he said things like that about the Light-house, it seemed to her likely that he would knocka pile of books over, just as they were going tosleep, clumsily sweeping them off the table withhis elbow. For she supposed that he had goneupstairs to work. Yet he looked so desolate; yetshe would feel relieved when he went; yet shewould see that he was better treated to-morrow;yet he was admirable with her husband; yet hismanners certainly wanted improving; yet sheliked his laugh—thinking this, as she came down-stairs, she noticed that she could now see the moonitself through the staircase window—the yellowharvest moon—and turned, and they saw her,standing above them on the stairs.

"That’s my mother," thought Prue. Yes;Minta should look at her; Paul Rayley shouldlook at her. That is the thing itself, she felt, asif there were only one person like that in theworld; her mother. And, from having been quitegrown up, a moment before, talking with theothers, she became a child again, and what theyhad been doing was a game, and would hermother sanction their game, or condemn it, she179
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