Why?
Miss D. (Bending over the bodice and sewing furiously.) Oh, nothing--only--
Miss T. (Sternly.) Only what? Out with it, Emma.
Miss D. Well, May Olger--she's engaged to Mr. Charteris, you know--said--
Promise you won't repeat this?
Miss T. Yes, I promise. What did she say?
Miss D. That--that being kissed (with a rush) with a man who didn't wax his
moustache was--like eating an egg without salt.
Miss T. (At her full height, with crushing scorn.) May Olger is a horrid, nasty
Thing, and you can tell her I said so. I'm glad she doesn't belong to my set--I
must go and feed this man! Do I look presentable?
Miss D. Yes, perfectly. Be quick and hand him over to your Mother, and then we
can talk. I shall listen at the door to hear what you say to him.
Miss T. 'Sure I don't care. I'm not afraid of Captain Gadsby.
In proof of this swings into the drawing-room with a mannish stride followed by
two short steps, which produces the effect of a restive horse entering. Misses
CAPTAIN GADSBY, who is sitting in the shadow of the window-curtain, and gazes
round helplessly.
CAPTAIN GADSBY. (Aside.) The filly, by Jove! 'Must ha' picked up that action
from the sire. (Aloud, rising.) Good evening, Miss Threegan.
Pages:
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159