"Into The Hurst and shut the door—"
Georgie's deeper calm suddenly quivered like a jelly.
"My dears, you needn't howl so, or talk quite so loud," he said. "All Riseholme will hear you. Tell me without shouting who it was you thought you recognised."
"There's no think about it," said Hermy. "It was one of the cooks from the Calcutta Restaurant in Bedford Street—"
"Where we often have lunch," said Ursy. "He makes the most delicious curries."
"Especially when he's a little tipsy," said Hermy.
"And is about as much a Brahmin as I am."
"And always said he came from Madras."
"We always tip him to make the curry himself, so he isn't quite ignorant about money."
"O Lord!" said Hermy, wiping her eyes. "If it isn't the limit!"