Hedley’s Avenue Road apartment, stopped short, felt Jane’s frantic plea for help, turned around, and took the next streetcar back. All the way into town she had felt uneasy. She had explained it to herself by saying it was because she felt guilty taking the doll to Mr. Hedley without Jane’s permission, but suddenly she knew it wasn’t and she was scared. And then she saw it too. Sitting at the back of the streetcar, surrounded by noisy, chattering people, the picture of their house – Aunt Alice’s house – leapt into her mind and over it, the same way Jane had seen it, like a double exposed photograph, the little house of their dream. Its peaked roof ended just below the tower window, its white wood carved roses fitted themselves neatly over the pigeon holes of Aunt Alice’s house, its front yard settled into the kitchen garden. And, just as it had happened with Jane, Aunt Alice’s house faded. The dream became reality and Elizabeth was sharing completely the memory of someone who had lived in that smaller, older house.
