‘Indeed. Oh, indeed!’ said Mrs Keeling.
Conversation came to a dead halt here, and again Mrs Keeling, with growing resentment, took in Norah from head to foot. The seconds were beaten out sonorously by the pink clock on the chimney-piece, and at last Norah, now growing thoroughly uncomfortable in this hostile atmosphere, rose.
‘I think Mr Keeling had much better not bother about a cab for me,’ she said. ‘I can perfectly well walk home.’
Mrs Keeling became a shade statelier, without abatement of her extremely proper behavior.
‘Mr Keeling will do as he thinks wisest about that,’ she said.
It seemed, however, not to be in Mr Keeling’s power to do what he thought wisest, for after a minute or two of ringing silence, he appeared with the news that there were no cabs to be got. It was snowing heavily and they were all out.
Norah held out her hand to Mrs Keeling. ‘I won’t keep you up any longer,’ she said. ‘I shall walk home at once.’
‘It’s impossible,’ said he, ‘there’s nearly a foot of snow now.’
‘All the more reason for getting home before there are two,’ said she.
‘I’ll see you home then,’ he said. ‘You can’t go alone.’