“You will not be able to stay,” said the grey-clad figure warningly.
“I shall stay till I am asked to leave. Then you can take my place.”
“That will be soon,” said the grey-clad figure.
“We shall see,” said the figure in white.
“I shall come back again,” said the grey-clad figure, but the words lacked confidence.
“When you are asked,” said the figure in white.
“I am going now,” said the grey-clad figure. “If I stay here any longer with you I shall lose all my personality.”
And Doubt flew through the window. She hated passing through the shaft of sunlight, but it was the only way out. But Joy remained in the studio.
The clock on the mantelpiece struck seven. Its note was like the bell of a miniature cathedral. There was the sound of wheels in the courtyard. They stopped.
The door opened and a woman in a black dress and wide mushroom hat crossed the threshold. She saw the shaft of sunlight, the oak dresser with its array of blue plates, and she looked towards the great chair by the chest. Being a mortal she did not see the figure seated in it.