“Well,” said Sophia. “I wouldn’t have done that.”
“I never saw Mr. Critchlow’s equal for picking up hot cinders,” Maria giggled.
Mr. Critchlow deigned no remark. “When did ye leave this Paris?” he demanded of Sophia, leaning back, and putting his hands on the arms of the chair.
“Yesterday morning,” said Sophia,
“And what’n ye been doing with yeself since yesterday morning?”
“I spent last night in London,” Sophia replied.
“Oh, in London, did ye?”
“Yes. Cyril and I had an evening together.”
“Eh? Cyril! What’s yer opinion o’ Cyril, Sophia?”
“I’m very proud to have Cyril for a nephew,” said Sophia.