“Good Gracious!” The door was open and Harry, entering with a jug of hot water was enveloped in the end of the out-blown curtains. “Why on Earth d’you have your window like that? It’s simply bitter.”
“I love it” said Miriam, watching Harriett’s active little moving form battle with the flying draperies. “I’m revelling in it.”
“Well I won’t presume to shut it; but revel up. Here you are. Breakfast’s nearly ready. Hold the ends while I get out and shut the door.”
Harry too; and she used to be so fond of open windows. But it was not a snub. She would say to Gerald she’s got her window bang open, isn’t she an old Cure? She got out singing into the fresh golden air leaving the window wide. The London temptation to shirk her swift shampoo and huddle on a garment did not come. The sense of summer was so strong in the bright air that she felt sure, if only she could have always bright screened light in her room, summer warmth and summer happiness would last the whole year round.
Gerald was pouring out coffee. In the kitchen the voices of Harriett and Mrs. Thimm were railing cheerfully together. Harriett came in with a rush, slamming the door. “Is it too warm for you in here Miss Henderson?” she asked as she drove Gerald to his own end of the table.
“It’s glorious” said Miriam subsiding into indefinite anticipation. The room was very warm with sunlight and a blazing fire. But there was no pressure anywhere. It was their youth and the way being with them made things go backwards as far as one could see and confidently forward from any room they happened to be in. A meal with them always seemed as if it might go on for ever. She glanced affectionately from one to the other, longing to convey to them in some form of words the thing they did not seem to know, the effect they made, together, through having been together from such early beginnings, how it gave and must always give a confidence to the very expression of their hair, making them always about to start life together. It came from Harriett, and was reflected by Gerald, a light that played about him, decking him in his most unconscious, busy, man’s moments with the credit of having found Harriett. They seemed more suitably arranged, confronted here together in this bright eventful house, meeting adventures together, mutually efficient towards a common end, than with Gerald in business and Harry silken and leisurely in a suburban house ......
“We’ll be more glorious in a minute” said Gerald sweeping actively about. “I’ll just move that old fern.”
“Oh of course” mocked Harriett, “look at the importance ...”
Whistling softly Gerald placed a small square box on the table amongst the breakfast things.
“Oh dear me” moaned Harriett from behind the coffee pot, smirking coyly backwards over her shoulder, “hoh, ar’n’t we grand.” “It’s the new toy” she rapped avertedly towards Miriam, in a despairing whisper. Gerald interrupted his whistling to fix on to the box a sort of trumpet, a thing that looked like a wide-open green nasturtium.