"Really? Are you sure? Well, then, thanks so much, if I may—just one."
"Delmege? Oh, you don't smoke, though, do you?"
"No, thank you. I dare say I seem old-fashioned, but it's the way mother brought us all up from children, and I must say I always feel that smoking is—well, rather unwomanly, you know."
In the face of this commentary Miss Marsh struck a match, and passed it round the room.
The atmosphere became clouded.
"You know," Grace said rather mischievously to Miss Delmege, "that Miss Vivian smokes?"
"She doesn't!"
"Indeed she does. Didn't you know that? Why, I've often noticed the smell of tobacco when she hangs up her coat in the office. It's unmistakable."
"That might mean anything!" hastily exclaimed Miss Delmege. "Tobacco does cling so. Very likely it hangs all round the house at Plessing, you know, with a man in the house and people always coming and going, probably."
"You forget that Gracie knows all about Plessing," cried Miss Marsh instantly. "Of course, she's seen Miss Vivian at home."