The chest of drawers was so tall and bulky that it spoiled the look of the bow window where it stood, but there was no place else in the room to put it. It nearly hid the middle part of the window but through the right-hand side pane Lily could see the narrow Dublin street outside, and the row of houses opposite, all exactly like her own. At the end of the street she saw the main road. A tram went by, coming out from town, and she hoped the Bishop had not been on it. There was still Margaret’s hair to be done, and they would all want to be downstairs and ready before he knocked on the door. Then she felt a final, definite tug at her hair, and her mother stood straight and stepped back, away from her.

“That’s as good as I can get it,” Mrs. Bagot said. “Turn around now till I take a look at you. And Margaret, get down off that quilt and come over here till I do your hair. It’ll be a miracle if we’re ready for the Bishop.”