“Oh yes,” said Miriam, tugging a thread out of the fraying edge of the table cover. “But it’s practically impossible to discover what on earth they mean you to do.”
“N—aiche, my dear,” she said in an angry guttural, “ye’re always led.”
Miriam tugged at the thread and bit her lips.
“Why do ye suppose ye’ll go on teaching all yer life? Perhaps ye’ll marry.”
“Oh no.”
“Ye can’t tell.”
“Oh, I never shall—in any case now.”
“Have ye quarrelled with him?”
“Oh, well, him,” said Miriam roundly, digging a pencil point between the grainings of the table-cover. “It’s they, I think, goodness knows, I don’t know; it’s so perfectly extraordinary.”
“You’re a very funny young lady.”