Wiggs looked puzzled. She had been dusting the books in the library; and when you dust books you simply must stop every now and then to take just one little peep inside, and then you look inside another one and another one, and by the time you have finished dusting, your head is so full of things you have seen that you have to be asked questions very slowly indeed.
"I'm pretty, aren't I?" went on Hyacinth.
That was an easy one.
"Lovely!" said Wiggs, with a deep breath.
"And I'm not unkind to anybody?"
"Unkind!" said Wiggs indignantly.
"Then why—oh, Wiggs, I know it's silly of me, but it hurts me that my people are so much fonder of the Countess than of me."
"Oh, I'm sure they're not, your Royal Highness."
"Well, they cheer her much louder than they cheer me."
Wiggs tried to think of a way of comforting her mistress, but her head was still full of the last book she had dusted.