"When I have been sitting still for a long time," Helen said, as though she produced wisdom, "I'm afraid to move in case something springs on me. I get stiff-necked. I feel—I feel that we're lost children with no one to take care of us."
"I'm rather glad I'm not that tramp," Miriam owned, and shivered.
"And I do wish Notya were safe at home."
"I don't," said Miriam stubbornly.
The wind whistled with a shrill note like a call, and upstairs a door banged loudly.
"Which room?" Miriam whispered.
"Hers, I think. We left the windows open," John said in a sensible loud voice. "I'll go and shut them."
"Don't go. I won't be left here!" Miriam cried. "This house—this house is too big."
"It's because she isn't here," Helen said.
"John, you're the oldest. Make us happy."