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“No. Fast asleep, he is. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. She walked straight across to the wardrobe and opened it. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade. “I don’t think she quite sees the harm of those people or the sort of life to which they would draw her,” she said.
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