This was followed by heavy footsteps, and in another moment the dining-room door was flung open. It was a habit of his to talk to himself. She had one idea, she found, very clear in her mind—that she would get a Research Scholarship, and so contrive another year in the laboratory. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. Happily they had no one else to wait for, and it heartened her mightily to think that she had ordered the promptest possible service of the dinner. He pointed to where the lights still burned in Anna’s windows.
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