Baby’s ivory rattle, still wet from his mouth, lay on the sofa. She picked it up and put it in her work-basket. Then she altered the position of two photographs on the mantelpiece. She moved one of Larrie’s silver cups—in it there was a green programme crumpled up into a ball.
‘Dot, you will obey me?’
‘No, I will not,’ she said passionately. ‘I am tired of being told to do things. I want a little liberty as well as you. I will not spoil my future just because you want to be a petty czar.’
She crossed to the door. A flame sprang up in Larrie’s eyes.
‘You will be sorry to the end of your life if you go,’ he said.
‘No, I shall be glad,’ said Dot.
Peggie came in to know if they wanted hot water, or if the master would have another egg. She was really too anxious to keep away.
[p 105]
]‘I’ve got a nice brown one, laid to-day, sir,’ she said persuasively.
He shook his head impatiently. The woman looked over to Dot, standing with the door handle in her hand, ‘Shall I fetch the baby for you?’ she asked.
‘No,’ said Dot sharply.