“I do, and it's her third serious heart wound. Really, that girl is entitled to draw a pension.”
“Well, I'll be jig——” began Nannie.
“Sh-h!” said the president, and then she added: “Young ladies, it is for you to decide how you'll be served up in future.”
“Is it for us to decide?” asked Nannie Branscome.
She had a peculiar way of saying things of this sort. She would lower her head and look out from under her head frizzles in a non-committal fashion, but with a suggestion of something that made her piquant, bewitching face irresistible.
“Certainly,” said the president. “The style of cooking depends on the cook.”
“Well, let us first see what choice we have in the matter. What variety of dishes are named? Where's the article and where did it come from?” asked Hilda.
“George Daly had it last night and he read bits of it between the acts.”
“So that's what I missed by declining Mrs. Warren's box party invitation!” exclaimed Hilda. “Well, let's have the article.”
“I haven't got it,” said Puddy. “George wouldn't give it to me. He said it belonged to Mr. Porter, but I copied some of it.”