She interrogated her daughter with an upward gaze, frigid and unconsciously hostile, through her gold-rimmed glasses.
“I must have picked it up on the roads,” said Sophia, and hastened to the door.
“Sophia!”
“Yes, mother.”
“Shut the door.”
Sophia unwillingly shut the door which she had half opened.
“Come here.”
Sophia obeyed, with falling lip.
“You are deceiving me, Sophia,” said Mrs. Baines, with fierce solemnity. “Where have you been this afternoon?”
Sophia’s foot was restless on the carpet behind the table. “I haven’t been anywhere,” she murmured glumly.