‘How dare you!’ Dot said in trembling fury. ‘My piano! give me that key instantly.’
‘Go and mind your child,’ he said. He was stooping a little, for the key stuck, since it was never used; his head was almost on a level with the lid.
The next minute he was standing straight in confused astoundment. Dot had dealt him a passionate box on the ear, and fled from the room.
[p 33]
]CHAPTER IV
THE ‘LITTLE MOTHER’
‘Kiss and be friends, like children being chid.’
It was unwritten law that thunder storms at the cottage should never travel to the house. But when Dot hurried up the drive and burst into the dining-room with a scarlet face and glowing eyes, the mother was afraid something was wrong.
‘Why, it’s Thursday, Dot!’ she said, ‘I was just coming down.’
Dot took off her wide brimmed hat and fanned herself for a moment.
‘There was curry cooking in the kitchen,’ she said; ‘onions, pah!’
‘How’s the baby, why didn’t you bring him?’ asked the little mother.