“Well, we’ll see,” said James, rising to superiority.
And again he began to dart absorbedly about, like a bird building a nest. Miss Pinnegar watched him with a sort of sullen fury. She went to the shop door to peep out after him. She saw him slip into the Liquor Vaults, and she came back to announce to Alvina:
“He’s taken to drink!”
“Drink?” said Alvina.
“That’s what it is,” said Miss Pinnegar vindictively. “Drink!”
Alvina sank down and laughed till she was weak. It all seemed really too funny to her—too funny.
“I can’t see what it is to laugh at,” said Miss Pinnegar. “Disgraceful—it’s disgraceful! But I’m not going to stop to be made a fool of. I shall be no manageress, I tell you. It’s absolutely ridiculous. Who does he think will come to the place? He’s out of his mind—and it’s drink; that’s what it is! Going into the Liquor Vaults at ten o’clock in the morning! That’s where he gets his ideas—out of whiskey—or brandy! But he’s not going to make a fool of me—”
“Oh dear!” sighed Alvina, laughing herself into composure and a little weariness. “I know it’s perfectly ridiculous. We shall have to stop him.”
“I’ve said all I can say,” blurted Miss Pinnegar.
As soon as James came in to a meal, the two women attacked him.