With a thumb and two fingers Letty marked off on the table the three points as to which she had received information that morning. She must say brought, and not brung; she must say tell, and not put wise; she must not kick, but show displeasure. Neither must she drop her aitches, though to do so would have been an effort. The warning only raised a suspicion that in the matter of speech there might be a higher standard than Steptoe’s. If ever she heard Rashleigh Allerton speak again she resolved to listen to him attentively.
She came back from her reverie on hearing Steptoe say:
“With madam it’s a cyse of beginning from the ground up, more or less as you would with a byby; so I ’ope madam’ll forgive me if I drop a ’int as to what we must do before goin’ any farther.”
Once more he read her question in the starry little flames in her eyes.
“It’s—clothes.”
The damask red which had ebbed surged slowly back again. It surged back under the transparent white skin, as red wine fills a glass. Her lips parted to stammer the confession that she had no clothes except those she wore; but she couldn’t utter a syllable.
“I understand madam’s position, which is why I mention it. You might sye as clothes is the ABC of social life, and if we’re to work from the ground up we must begin there.”
She forced it out at last, but the statement seemed to tear her.
“I can’t get clothes. I ain’t got no money.”