XVIIIAN OUTER CHANGE
MISS CLAES standing by the table in her own room heard a step upon an upper stairway; not on the immediate basement stairs, but of one descending from the second to the first landing. The tread was deliberate. She heard it now in the hall directly above. Miss Claes moved to the door, her hand against her cheek; then back to stand by the table again. Now the step was on the basement stairs. A fire was burning in her grate, and that was the main light of the room, for the winter morning was very gray. The table was prepared for one—plate and cup of ruddy gold, a cutting of white hyacinth in a purple vase. The footsteps approached in the basement hall; a heavy bag was placed down outside Miss Claes’ door; then Nagar appeared, a dark hat and an overcoat upon his arm. He came forward, and the two stood together for a moment.
“At least this once, I can serve you,” Miss Claes said.
Nagar smiled as he sat down to the table. Miss Claes went into the kitchen and presently brought a pot of tea in a Chinese basket and a covered dish. She filled a goblet from the water bottle, and stood behindhis chair while Nagar ate. The house was strangely silent.
Nagar arose. They stood together again for a moment by the mantel. He spoke in Hindi, and she listened, like one already weary, hearing of more things to do. Not until she smiled, did he turn away. She did not follow to the door, nor look toward the window, as he passed up the steps to the street. After a long time, she stepped to the cabinet for a cigarette and lit it standing by the fireplace.