Grey Roses

he Cromwell Road. I lay a-bed, with eyes half-closed, drowsily look looking forward to the usual procession of sober-hued London hours, and, for

in,' that I noticed the strangeness of the wall-paper, and then, after an instant of perp

h-coloured, wholesome peasant face, came in, b

y-browned pain-de-gruau, she set down on the table at my elbow; then she crossed the room and drew back the window-curtains, making the rings tinkle crisply on the metal rods, and letting in a gush of dazzling sunshine. From where I lay I could see

take them off and brush them, inquired, by the

ust you lie in it,' I answered. 'And you

k-did it imply that she found me rusty? 'Here

not since May, and n

she demanded, with a gesture that left the room,

ct,' ass

hot water?' she aske

seem, abruptly irrelevant to

ince eight. She awaits you in the salon. La vo

o play scales in

ring me my hot