A little wartime and post war house, lived in rather than designed. As in evacuations and escapes, we carried the dearest and most useless objects to safety first. We heaped them up like a pile of booty, one on top of the other, concentrated as in one's memory. It is the passing of the years, or of a war, that leads us to reduce the gaps between the things precious to us, and that makes us indifferent to dividing walls and functions.