as you say； it’s out of the question—this friendship； he falls in love with me。 I don’t want that。 Still；” she added； “I believe you exaggerate； love’s not everything； marriage itself is only one of the things—” They had reached the main thoroughfare； and stood looking at the omnibuses and passersby； who seemed； for the moment； to illustrate what Katharine had said of the diversity of human interests。 For both of them it had bee one of those moments of extreme detachment； when it seems unnecessary ever again to shoulder the burden of happiness and selfassertive existence。 Their neighbors were wele to their possessions。 “I don’t lay down any rules；”’ said Mary； recovering herself first； as they turned after a long pause of this description。 “All I say is that you should know what you’re 313 Night and Day about—for certain； but；” she added； “I expect you do。” At the same time she was profoundly perplexed； not only by what she knew of the arrangements for Katharine’s marriage； but by the impression which she had of her； there on her arm； dark and inscrutable。 They walked back again and reached the steps which led up to Mary’s flat。 Here they stopped and paused for a moment； saying nothing。 “You must go in；” said Katharine； rousing herself。 “He’s waiting all this time to go on with his reading。” She glanced up at the lighted window near the top of the house； and they both looked at it and waited for a moment。 A flight of semicircular steps ran up to the hall； and Mary slowly mounted the first two or three； and paused； looking down upon Katharine。 “I think you underrate the value of that emotion；” she said slowly； and a little awkwardly。 She climbed another step and looked down once more upon the figure that was only partly lit up； standing in the street with a colorless face turned upwards。 As Mary hesitated； a cab came by and Katharine turned and stopped it； saying as she opened the door： “Remember； I want to belong to your society—remember；” she added； having to raise her voice a little； and shutting the door upon the rest of her words。 Mary mounted the stairs step by step； as if she had to lift her body up an extremely steep ascent。 She had had to wrench herself forcibly away from Katharine； and every step vanquished her desire。 She held on grimly； encouraging herself as though she were actually making some great physical effort in climbing a height。 She was conscious that Mr。 Bast； sitting at the top of the stairs with his documents； offered her solid footing if she were capable of reaching it。 The knowledge gave her a faint sense of exaltation。 Mr。 Bast raised his eyes as she opened the door。 “I’ll go on where I left off；” he said。 “Stop me if you want anything explained。” He had been rereading the document； and making pencil notes in the margin while he waited； and he went on again as if there had been no interruption。 Mary sat down among the flat cushions； lit another cigarette； and lis 314 Virginia Woolf tened with a frown upon her face。 Katharine leant back in the corner of the cab that carried her to Chelsea； conscious of fatigue； and conscious； too； of the sober and satisfactory nature of such industry as she had just witnessed。 The thought of it posed and calmed her。 When she reached home she let herself in as quietly as she could； in the hope that the household was already gone to bed。 But her excursion had occupied less time than she thought； and she heard sounds of unmistakable liveliness upstairs。 A door opened； and she drew herself into a groundfloor room in case the sound meant that Mr。 Peyton were taking his leave。 From where she stood she could see the stairs； though she was herself invisible。 Some one was ing down the stairs； and now she saw that it was William Rodney。 He looked a little strange； as if he were walking in his sleep； his lips moved as if he were acting some part to himself。 He came down very slowly； step by step； with one hand upon the banisters to guide himself。 She thought he looked as if he were in some mood of high exaltation； which it made her unfortable to witness any longer unseen。 She stepped into the hall。 He gave a great start upon seeing her and stopped。 “Katharine！” he exclaimed。 “You’ve been out？” he asked。 “Yes… 。 Are they still up？” He did not answer； and walked into the groundfloor room through the door which stood open。 “It’s been more wonderful than I can tell you；” he said； “I’m incredibly happy—” He was scarcely addressing her； and she said nothing。 For a moment they stood at opposite sides of a table saying nothing。 Then he asked her quickly； “But tell me； how did it seem to you？ What did you think； Katharine？ Is there a chance that she likes me？ Tell me； Katharine！” Before she could answer a door opened on the landing above and disturbed them。 It disturbed William excessively。 He started back； walked rapidly into the hall； and said in a loud and ostentatiously ordinary tone： “Good night； Katharine。 Go to bed now。 I shall see you soon。 I hope I shall be able to e tomorrow。” Next moment he was gone。 She went upstairs and found Cassandra on the landing。 She held two or three books in 315 Night and Day her hand； and she was stooping to look at others in a little bookcase。 She said that she could never tell which book she wanted to read in bed； poetry； biography； or metaphysics。 “What do you read in bed； Katharine？” she asked； as they walked upstairs side by side。 “Sometimes one thing—sometimes another；” said Katharine vaguely。 Cassandra looked at her。 “D’you know； you’re extraordinarily queer；” she said。 “Every one seems to me a little queer。 Perhaps it’s the effect of London。” “Is William queer； too？” Katharine asked。 “Well； I think he is a little；” Cassandra replied。 “Queer； but very fascinating。 I shall read Milton tonight。 It’s been one of the happiest nights of my life； Katharine；”