"How do you spend your day?" he asked.
She meditated still. When she thought of their day it seemed to her it
was cut into four pieces by their meals. These divisions were absolutely
rigid, the contents of the day having to accommodate themselves within
the four rigid bars. Looking back at her life, that was what she saw.
"Breakfast nine; luncheon one; tea five; dinner eight," she said.
"Well," said Hewet, "what d'you do in the morning?"
"I need to play the piano for hours and hours."
"And after luncheon?"
"Then I went shopping with one of my aunts. Or we went to see some one,
or we took a message; or we did something that had to be done--the taps
might be leaking. They visit the poor a good deal--old char-women with
bad legs, women who want tickets for hospitals. Or I used to walk in the
park by myself. And after tea people sometimes called; or in summer we
sat in the garden or played croquet; in winter I read aloud, while
they worked; after dinner I played the piano and they wrote letters.
If father was at home we had friends of his to dinner, and about once a
month we went up to the play. Every now and then we dined out; sometimes
I went to a dance in London, but that was difficult because of getting
back. The people we saw were old family friends, and relations, but we
didn't see many people. There was the clergyman, Mr.
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