THEY GO HOME 573

to. 'He's fifty, of course, and heavily married/ she said,
'but the most marvellously attractive man, my dear/
She went raving on and on. I think it's revolting the
way these young females adore their doctors and
dentists. I refuse to join in, don't you? After that it'll
be vicars and curates and dear, dear doggies-vile! But,
as I said before, I feel thoroughly ill It's partly the
idiocy of my respected employer, who really is the silliest
woman there ever was-she gets sillier-and then again
it's partly the time of year. Don't you honestly think
this is the very, very foulest time of all the year? It's
such a long way from anything or anywhere interest-
ing, isn't it? Just fiendishly dull I don't blame all those
illustrated paper people—Lady Chagworth, Colonel
Mush, and Friend—for going away and slacking about
on the Riviera or in Madeira, or wherever it is they do
go. I say 'good luck to them!'—don't you? Though I
must say it oughtn't to be the same people who go every
year and the same people who stay at home, like us, and
push into buses on wet nights. They ought to change
round a bit. Your turn this year. Our turn next year.
That sort of thing."

"I should think so/' said Miss Matfield, somewhat in-
differently. She was still busy putting clothes away. "I
call it beastly unfair. I think I'll turn Bolshie."

"I've often thought of turning something" said Miss
Morrison meditatively. "Have you got a cigarette, by
the way?"

"Some over there somewhere. Can you reach over
and get them? I'll have one, too/'

Having found the cigarettes, Miss Morrison handed
one over, accompanying it with a curious glance. "I
went to that Chehov play last night, I didn't tell you,