Now you are in the house. At first

Now you are in the house. At first it is always curiously still; and then always out of the stillness you find it. This is the hall and in it are the smells and sounds of all the rooms; furniture cream and hot pipes: carpet and dried roses from the drawing-room, tobacco and a little of pickles from the dining-room: mint and hot cake from the kitchen, and down the bathroom—it has a piece of pine-smelling brick in a wire holder on the wall. The necessary multiplicity of the relationship to the world in "You Need to Go Upstairs" parallels its multiple subjectivity. HopKins and Perkins, commenting on Godden's text, note: The effect is that at that moment there is no distance between the narrator and Ally; the voice is Ally's alone." The only significant sense of "other" between Ally and the narrator occurs in passages of encouragement or caution: "You won't fall, the cinder smell has warned you. . . " These passages could certainly be interior to Ally, but they at least signify a dichotomy of self—that voice we establish within5ourselves to encourage. . . . (italics mine).