says Mrs.Malley in her regretful but uninformative way)The walls were cold and bare,white with a little grey,to cut the glare for the eyes.Since there were no doctors in evidence,nor had been,as Mrs.Malley freely told me,for some time,I offered twenty-five dollars amonth.Shesaidshewouldhavetospeaktoherhusband. Para.15:The next time I came my offer was agreed upon,and I met Mr.Malley in the flesh.I explained,as I had already done to his wife,that I did not want to make use of my office during regular business hours,but during the weekends and sometimes in the evening He asked me what I would use it for,and I told him,not without wondering first whether Iought to say Idid stenography Para.16:He absorbed the information with good humour."Ah,you're a writer" Para.l7:“Well yes.Iwrite.” Para.18:"Then we'll do our best to see you're comfortable here,"he said expansively "I'm a great man for hobbies myself.All these ship-models,I do them in my spare time,they're a blessing for the nerves. People need an occupation for their nerves.I daresay you're the same." Para.19:"Something the same,"I said,resolutely agreeable,even relieved that he saw my behaviour in this hazy and tolerant light.At least he did not ask me,as I half-expected,who was looking after the children,and did my husband approve?Ten years,maybe fifteen,had greatly softened,spread and defeated the man in the picture.His hips and thighs had now a startling accumulation of fat,causing him to move with a sigh,a cushiony settling of flesh,a ponderous matriarchal discomfort.His hair and eyes had faded,his features blurred,and the affable,predatory expression had collapsed into one of troubling humility and chronic mistrust.I did not look at him.I had not planned,in taking an office,to take on the responsibility of knowing any more human beings. Para.20:On the weekend I moved in,without the help of my family,who wouldhave beenkind.I brought my typewriter and acard table and chair,also a little wooden table on which I set a hot plate,a kettle,a jar of instant coffee,a spoon and a yellow mug That was all.I brooded with satisfaction on the bareness of my walls,the cheap dignity of my essential furnishings,the remarkable lack of things to dust,wash or polish. Para.21:The sight was not so pleasing to Mr.Malley He knocked on my door soon after I was settled and said that he wanted to explain a few things to me-about unscrewing the light in the outer room, which I would not need,about the radiator and how to work the awning outside the window He looked around at everything with gloom and mystification and said it was an awfully uncomfortable place for a lady Para.22:"It's perfectly all right for me,"I said,not as discouragingly as I would have liked to, because I always have a tendency to placate people whom I dislike for no good reason,or simply do not want to know I make elaborate offerings of courtesy sometimes,in the foolish hope that they will go away and leave me alone. Para.23:"What you want is a nice easy chair to sit in,while you're waiting for inspiration to hit.I've got a chair down in the basement,all kinds of stuff down there since my mother passed on last year.There's a bit of carpet rolled up in a corner down there,it isn't doing anybody any good.We could get this place fixed up so's it'd be alot more homelike for you." Para.24:Butreally,Isaid,but really I like it as it is. Para.25:"If you wanted to run up some curtains,I'd pay you for the material.Place needs a touch of colour,I'm afraid you'll get morbid sitting in here." Para.26:Oh,no,I said,and laughed,I'm sure I won't.says Mrs. Malley in her regretful but uninformative way.) The walls were cold and bare, white with a little grey, to cut the glare for the eyes. Since there were no doctors in evidence, nor had been, as Mrs. Malley freely told me, forsome time, I offered twenty-five dollars amonth.Shesaidshewouldhavetospeaktoherhusband. Para.15: The next time I came my offer was agreed upon, and I met Mr. Malley in the flesh. I explained, as I had already done to his wife, that I did not want to make use of my office during regular business hours, but during the weekends and sometimes in the evening. He asked me what I would use it for, and I told him, not without wondering first whetherI oughtto say I did stenography. Para.16: He absorbed the information with good humour. “Ah, you’re a writer.” Para.17: “Wellyes.Iwrite.” Para.18: “Then we’ll do our best to see you’re comfortable here,” he said expansively. “I’m a great man for hobbies myself. All these ship- models, I do them in my spare time, they’re a blessing for the nerves. People need an occupation for their nerves. I daresay you’re the same.” Para.19: “Something the same,” I said, resolutely agreeable, even relieved that he saw my behaviour in this hazy and tolerant light. At least he did not ask me, as I half-expected, who was looking after the children, and did my husband approve? Ten years, maybe fifteen, had greatly softened, spread and defeated the man in the picture. His hips and thighs had now a startling accumulation of fat, causing him to move with a sigh, a cushiony settling of flesh, a ponderous matriarchal discomfort. His hair and eyes had faded, his features blurred, and the affable, predatory expression had collapsed into one of troubling humility and chronic mistrust. I did not look at him. I had not planned, in taking an office, to take on the responsibility of knowing any more human beings. Para.20: On the weekend I moved in, without the help of my family, who wouldhave beenkind.I brought my typewriter and a card table and chair, also a little wooden table on which Iset a hot plate, a kettle, a jar of instant coffee, a spoon and a yellow mug. That was all. I brooded with satisfaction on the bareness of my walls, the cheap dignity of my essential furnishings, the remarkable lack of things to dust, wash or polish. Para.21: The sight was not so pleasing to Mr. Malley. He knocked on my door soon after I was settled and said that he wanted to explain a few things to me—about unscrewing the light in the outer room, which I would not need, about the radiator and how to work the awning outside the window. He looked around at everything with gloom and mystification and said it was an awfully uncomfortable place for a lady. Para.22: “It’s perfectly all right for me,” I said, not as discouragingly as I would have liked to, because I always have a tendency to placate people whom I dislike for no good reason, or simply do not want to know. I make elaborate offerings of courtesy sometimes, in the foolish hope that they will go away and leave me alone. Para.23: “What you want is a nice easy chair to sit in, while you’re waiting for inspiration to hit. I’ve got a chair down in the basement, all kinds of stuff down there since my mother passed on last year. There’s a bit of carpet rolled up in a corner down there, it isn’t doing anybody any good. We could get this place fixed up so’s it’d be a lot more homelike for you.” Para.24: Butreally, Isaid, but really I like it as it is. Para.25: “If you wanted to run up some curtains, I’d pay you for the material. Place needs a touch of colour, I’m afraid you’ll get morbid sitting in here.” Para.26: Oh,no, I said, and laughed, I’m sure I won’t