She felt it coming on.
She made her "good-night" extra affectionate, hoping to disguise her impatience.

She wanted to get up to her own room.
But even that did not help her.

It seemed in some mysterious way to be no longer her room, but the room of someone she had known and half forgotten: who would never come back.

It gave her the same feeling she had experienced on returning to the house in London: that the place was haunted.

The high cheval glass from her mother's dressing-room had been brought there for her use.