"We shall see."
Woolf liked her spirit, otherwise her independence might have irritated him.
Arrived at his house he gave her in charge of his man's wife. Maggy disliked the woman on sight. There was something furtive about her. She gave the impression of being one who was used to waiting on ladies in a single man's house. Sly and secret amusement lurked in her eyes. She lingered, unostentatiously, while Maggy prinked herself in front of the glass. After a minute or two she turned, and intimated that she was ready.
"Wouldn't you like to take off your hat, miss?"
There was something unpleasantly insinuating in the smooth tones.
"No, thanks," said Maggy shortly.
"You've left your purse on the table, miss."
"Have I? There's nothing in it. It'll be quite safe."
The woman led the way downstairs and ushered her into a room half-library, half-drawing-room.
"Find everything you wanted?" inquired Woolf, coming forward to meet her.