Roger, who had been enlisted in the role of furniture mover, went off to the kitchen, falling her to call him if she needed more help. Laurie nodded and smiled, and went in, to find Max on his knees before the fireplace, lighting a fire.“It’s so long since the room was used,” he said, “that it needs warming up and airing. And I want to see if the fire smokes.”Laurie looked round critically at the empty room. “Yes,” she decided, “it looks very nice.”“I think so, too,” said Max. “It’s going to be a lovely room when we’ve finished with it.”The floor had been washed and polished. The Chinese carpet was rolled up in one corner of the room, waiting to be spread out. All the paintwork glistened, and the plain paper was new. The settee that Laurie had promised herself, stood against one wall, waiting to be disposed of—a settee that had been an extravagance, and whose luxurious comfort proclaimed the fact. Built-in bookshelves waited for Laurie’s books.He let her go and she slipped off her coat, waiting for him to light the candles; but he made no move for the matches.
