The omnibus jerked forward.
“You ought to be a man, Mimmy.”
“I liked that little short one,” said Miriam contentedly as they came from under the roar of the bridge. “They were awfully nice, weren’t they? They seemed to have made up their mind to take me before we went.... So I think they like us. I wonder why they like us. Didn’t you think they liked us? Don’t you think they are awfully nice?”
“I do. They are very charming ladies.”
“Yes, but wasn’t it awfully rum their liking us in that funny way?”
“I’m sure I don’t see why they should not.”
“Oh, mother, you know what I mean. I like them. I’m perfectly sure I shall like them. D’you remember the little one saying all girls ought to marry? Why did she say that?”
“They are dear funny little O.M.’s,” said Mrs. Henderson merrily. She was sitting with her knees crossed, the stuff of her brown canvas dress was dragged across them into an ugly fold by the weight of the velvet panel at the side of the skirt. She looked very small and resourceless. And there were the Pernes with their house and their school. They were old maids. Of course. What then?
“I never dreamed of getting such a big salary.”
“Oh, my chickie, I’m afraid it isn’t much.”