"I was—considerably. What do you think of Dolly?"
"Your sister?"
"Yes."
"I know she doesn't like me," she answered evasively.
"What makes you think that? I don't think you're correct. She hasn't got you right—that's all."
"No, she hasn't got me right. I know she thought I was quite a different person to what I really am."
"But how do you know that? She didn't tell you so when I'd gone out to get that taxi, did she? What did she say to you then?"
"Oh no, she didn't tell me what she thought. Under the circumstances, I'm sure she really treated me very well."
"I don't know about that," said Traill. "You must admit she was a bit icy at first. That's her social way—the way of the whole set when they meet strangers. One ought to bring a blast furnace when one goes calling at their houses, instead of a visiting card. My God, I've been to them myself, and I'd sooner undertake a job as look-out on a ship bound for the north pole. They'd freeze the very marrow in your bones."
Sally smiled—pleased—at his violent antipathy. "Don't you think you'll ever become one of them, then?" she asked. "I expect you will."