"No, Wednesday," Alwynne persisted. "Because, you know, Mr. Bryant is so afraid that Gertrude Clarke won't be out of the 'San.' He says he can never coach up another Alkestis in the time. Besides, there isn't any one. He's been tearing his hair."
Alicia laughed.
"She knows more about it than I do, Roger! She's been half living there, haven't you, Alwynne?"
Roger turned to her with a smile and the first touch of personal interest that he had shown.
"Jolly place, isn't it? You teach, don't you? I wonder how it strikes you!"
But he was a stranger and Alwynne was nervous. She answered flippantly, as she always did when she was not at her ease—
"Oh, I can't get over their dresses! Appalling garments! Imagine that poor girl trying to rehearse Alkestis in a pea-green potato sack! It must be delicious. And their hair! Doesn't anybody ever teach them to do their hair?"
He eyed her thoughtfully, from her carefully dressed head to her shining shoe-buckles, and shrugged his shoulders.
"Is that all you see?" said Roger dispassionately, and withdrew interest.
Alwynne grew hot with annoyance. Idiot! All she saw.... As if she had meant anything of the kind.... One said things like that.... One just said them.... Especially when one was nervous.... Taking a remark like that seriously.... Oh well, if he liked to think her a fool—let him! Silly prig!