Lady Brayle thought for a while. Then her mood changed.
This is pure sentimentality,'‘ she said abruptly, and whacked down the riding-crop on the table, where she left it "How very amusing! The cheers of a vulgar mob!"
"Sure," agreed H.M. "We know you're above all that" He contemplated the glowing tip of the cigar, he frowned down at his big shoes, and looked up again. "But don't you find it just a bit comfortin’, Sophie, now that you and I are old?"
There was a pause. Then Lady Brayle heaved herself to her feet
She went over to the little writing-desk, with her back to them. While the others pretended not to notice, she removed a hat disarranged from (mere) feelings, straightened her dress, repaired her face while peering into the mirror of a compact and shut up her handbag with a decisive snap. ' When she returned to the chair, and sat down with dignity and grimness, she was herself again.
"And now, Henry," she suggested briskly, "shall we have this matter out between us to a finish?"
"Grandmother!" cried Jenny.
But again two strong personalities, with a sort of silent blare, faced each other.
"Sophie," H.M. said mildly, "don't tangle with me again. I'm just warning you."
" Tangle with' is an expression I have heard before. It is a vulgarism, probably transatlantic. But I will make you pay for your childishness, believe me."