I found a door that was open.
The grass in the entry was cut close;
The hangings and drawing-room furniture
Immaculate in their smug neatness. Even the
Windows were clean and the books on the
Shelves were well dusted. I wandered into
The kitchen where oilcloth was spotless
And tidy. Even the walls were fresh-papered....
No doubt to keep the kalsomine-water
From evaporating....
Table-manners in such
A house, I fear, are more real than the eating.
I turned about and went out lest the hairs
In my coat might scatter.