The ferns, all of them tall and feathery and all in the same bright shade of green — bright moss green, grass green — were arranged on a table that stood inside the bow window. She had to leave a space between the two middle pots so that Minnie, the small black cat, could sleep there. Minnie’s favorite spot was in the center of the table between the ferns, and if a suitable place was not left for her she would make one, squeezing herself in until the pots rattled dangerously. Minnie was there now, half asleep, and Mrs. Bagot stroked her and watched the street. The street was safe for the children to play in. It was a dead end, and there were no garages, and in any case very few of the people had cars. The milkman came early in the morning and the bread man at eleven, but otherwise Mrs. Bagot hardly ever had to open the front door, except for the children when they came home from school at half past three. At noon every day she walked to the school with the children’s lunch.