"But how shall you cook it?"
"Boil it, 'm. He never has flesh meat, not often that is, but when he does I boil it."
"Oh, well, that will be all right. Of course I shall have to fix things up here, Elsie, and we may as well begin as we mean to go on."
"Yes, 'm."
"And you know my ways, don't you? That's fortunate."
"Yes, 'm."
While they were drinking the tea and eating pieces of bread, Violet nicely pretending to be Elsie's equal in the sight of God, and Elsie gently firm in maintaining the theory of the impassableness of the social chasm which separated them. Violet said:
"I'm sure we shall understand one another, Elsie. Of course you've been here on and off for a long while, and you've got your little habits here, and quite right too, and I've no doubt very good habits, because I'm convinced you're very conscientious in your work; if you hadn't been I shouldn't have kept you; but we've got to start afresh in this house, haven't we?"
"Oh, yes, 'm!" Elsie eagerly concurred.
"Yes, and the first thing to do is to get straight and tidy. I know it's Sunday, and I'm as much for rest and church as anybody, and I hope you'll go to church yourself every Sunday evening regular. But tradespeople aren't like others, and they can't be. There's certain things that can only be done on Sundays in a place of business—same as they have to lay railway lines on Sundays, you see. And what's more, I'm one of those that can't rest until what has to be done is done. They do say, the better the day the better the deed, don't they? Now all those books lying about on the floor and so on everywhere—they've got to be put right."