“But what are we going to do with a cinema show?” said Alvina.
“It’s what is he going to do. It doesn’t concern me. It’s no concern of mine. I shall not lend him anything, I shall not think about it, it will be the same to me as if there were no cinema. Which is all I have to say,” announced Miss Pinnegar.
“But he’s gone and done it,” said Alvina.
“Then let him go through with it. It’s no affair of mine. After all, your father’s affairs don’t concern me. It would be impertinent of me to introduce myself into them.”
“They don’t concern me very much,” said Alvina.
“You’re different. You’re his daughter. He’s no connection of mine, I’m glad to say. I pity your mother.”
“Oh, but he was always alike,” said Alvina.
“That’s where it is,” said Miss Pinnegar.
There was something fatal about her feelings. Once they had gone cold, they would never warm up again. As well try to warm up a frozen mouse. It only putrifies.
But poor Miss Pinnegar after this looked older, and seemed to get a little round-backed. And the things she said reminded Alvina so often of Miss Frost.