She swaddled the creature clumsily in her pocket-handkerchief and sat down beside her sister. There was an interval of silence, during which Anne combated the efforts of the mole.
“You’ve not had much to say about Jimmy this time. Did you see him often in Liverpool?” Anne asked suddenly.
“Once or twice,” replied Frances, giving no sign of how the question troubled her.
“And aren’t you sweet on him any more, then?”
“I should think I’m not, seeing that he’s engaged.”
“Engaged? Jimmy Barrass! Well, of all things! I never thought he’d get engaged.”
“Why not, he’s as much right as anybody else?” snapped Frances.
Anne was fumbling with the mole.
“’Appen so,” she said at length; “but I never thought Jimmy would, though.”
“Why not?” snapped Frances.