Let me see。 There’s Chenier and Hugo and Alfred de Musset—wonderful men； but； at the same time； there’s a richness； a freshness about Alardyce—” Here the telephone bell rang； and he had to absent himself with a smile and a bow which signified that； although literature is delightful； it is not work。 Mrs。 Seal rose at the same time； but remained hovering over the table； delivering herself of a tirade against party government。 “For if I were to tell you what I know of backstairs intrigue； and what can be done by the power of the purse； you wouldn’t credit me； Mr。 Denham； you wouldn’t； indeed。 Which is why I feel that the only work for my father’s daughter—for he was one of the pioneers； Mr。 Denham； and on his tombstone I had that verse from the Psalms put； about the sowers and the seed… 。 And what wouldn’t I give that he should be alive now； seeing what we’re going to see—” but reflecting that the glories of the future depended in part upon the activity of her typewriter； she bobbed her head； and hurried back to the seclusion of her little room； from which immediately issued sounds of enthusiastic； but obviously erratic； position。 Mary made it clear at once； by starting a fresh topic of general interest； that though she saw the humor of her colleague； she did not intend to have her laughed at。 “The standard of morality seems to me frightfully low；” she observed reflectively； pouring out a second cup of tea； “especially among women who aren’t well educated。 They don’t see that small things matter； and that’s where the leakage begins； and then we find ourselves in difficulties— I very nearly lost my temper yesterday；” she went on； looking at Ralph with a little smile； as though he knew what happened when she lost her temper。 “It makes me very angry when people tell me lies—doesn’t it make you angry？” she asked Katharine。 “But considering that every one tells lies；” Katharine remarked； looking about the room to see where she had put down her umbrella and her parcel； for there was an 75 Night and Day intimacy in the way in which Mary and Ralph addressed each other which made her wish to leave them。 Mary； on the other hand； was anxious； superficially at least； that Katharine should stay and so fortify her in her determination not to be in love with Ralph。 Ralph； while lifting his cup from his lips to the table； had made up his mind that if Miss Hilbery left； he would go with her。 “I don’t think that I tell lies； and I don’t think that Ralph tells lies； do you； Ralph？” Mary continued。 Katharine laughed； with more gayety； as it seemed to Mary； than she could properly account for。 What was she laughing at？ At them； presumably。 Katharine had risen； and was glancing hither and thither； at the presses and the cupboards； and all the machinery of the office； as if she included them all in her rather malicious amusement； which caused Mary to keep her eyes on her straightly and rather fiercely； as if she were a gayplumed； mischievous bird； who might light on the topmost bough and pick off the ruddiest cherry； without any warning。 Two women less like each other could scarcely be imagined； Ralph thought； looking from one to the other。 Next moment； he too； rose； and nodding to Mary； as Katharine said goodbye； opened the door for her； and followed her out。 Mary sat still and made no attempt to prevent them from going。 For a second or two after the door had shut on them her eyes rested on the door with a straightforward fierceness in which； for a moment； a certain degree of bewilderment seemed to enter； but； after a brief hesitation； she put down her cup and proceeded to clear away the teathings。 The impulse which had driven Ralph to take this action was the result of a very swift little piece of reasoning； and thus； perhaps； was not quite so much of an impulse as it seemed。 It passed through his mind that if he missed this chance of talking to Katharine； he would have to face an enraged ghost； when he was alone in his room again； demanding an explanation of his cowardly indecision。 It was better； on the whole； to risk present disfiture than to waste an evening bandying excuses and constructing impossible scenes with this unpromising section of himself。 For ever since he had visited the 76 Virginia Woolf Hilberys he had been much at the mercy of a phantom Katharine； who came to him when he sat alone； and answered him as he would have her answer； and was always beside him to crown those varying triumphs which were transacted almost every night； in imaginary scenes； as he walked through the lamplit streets home from the office。 To walk with Katharine in the flesh would either feed that phantom with fresh food； which； as all who nourish dreams are aware； is a process that bees necessary from time to time； or refine it to such a degree of thinness that it was scarcely serviceable any longer； and that； too； is sometimes a wele change to a dreamer。 And all the time Ralph was well aware that the bulk of Katharine was not represented in his dreams at all； so that when he met her he was bewildered by the fact that she had nothing to do with his dream of her。 When； on reaching the street； Katharine found that Mr。 Denham proceeded to keep pace by her side； she was surprised and； perhaps； a little annoyed。 She； too； had her margin of imagination； and tonight her activity in this obscure region of the mind required solitude。 If she had had her way； she would have walked very fast down the Tottenham Court Road； and then sprung into a cab and raced swiftly home。 The view she had had of the inside of an office was of the nature of a dream to her。 Shut off up there； she pared Mrs。 Seal； and Mary Datchet； and Mr。 Clacton to enchanted people in a bewitched tower； with the spiders’ webs looping across the corners of the room； and all the tools of the necromancer’s craft at hand； for so aloof and unreal and apart from the normal world did they seem to her； in the ho