“I know nothing at all about it.”
“Well, I’ve told you a dozen times.”
“I really can’t listen, child, to all the things you tell me!”
“Then I shan’t take the trouble to speak to you again!”
With Ardiune and Morvyth on terms of distant iciness, Valentine and Katherine constantly sparring over trifles, Fauvette preserving an attitude of martyred dignity, and Aveline, out of sheer perversity, striking up a friendship with Maudie Heywood, matters were not very brisk in the Fifth.
“I’m getting just about fed up with you all!” 175 said Raymonde irritably. “I never saw such a set! How can we have any fun, when everybody’s grousing with everyone else? For goodness’ sake, buck up! I’ve a blossomy idea in my head! Yes, I have, honest!”
Signs of interest manifested themselves on the faces of her companions. Raymonde’s ideas were always worth listening to. Aveline stopped yawning, Morvyth desisted from kicking her geography book round the floor, and Fauvette snapped the clasp of her bracelet, and sat bolt upright.
“We’re hanging upon your words, if you’ll condescend to explain, O Queen!” she vouchsafed.
Raymonde bowed, with heels together and hands back, like the star of a pierrot troupe.
“Don’t mensh! Glad to do my bit!” she replied. “Well, my notion’s this. It’s the Bumble’s birthday on Friday!”