Towards the end of the meal a heavy foot was heard on the stairs.
"Minnie!" Maggie called.
After shuffling and hesitation the sitting-room door was pushed ever so little open.
"Yes, miss," said someone feebly.
"Why have you left Mrs. Hamps? Do you need anything?"
"Missis made me go, miss," came the reply, very loosely articulated.
"Come in and take your bread," said Maggie, and aside to Edwin: "Auntie's at it again!"
After another hesitation the door opened wide, and Minnie became visible. She was rather a big girl, quite young, fat, too fair, undecided, obviously always between two minds. Her large apron, badly-fitting over the blue frock, was of a dubious yellow colour. She wore spectacles. Behind her spectacles she seemed to be blinking in confusion at all the subtle complexities of existence. She advanced irregularly to the table with a sort of nervous desperation, as if saying: "I have to go through this ordeal." Edwin could not judge whether she was about to smile or about to weep.
"Here's your bread," said Maggie, indicating the two rounds of dry bread. "I've left the dripping on the kitchen table for you."
Edwin, revolted, perceived of course in a flash what the life of Minnie was under the regime of Auntie Hamps.