Mrs. N. (dubiously). I thought they were always quite plain. And what's that queer sort of flap-thing for?
Miss de M. Oh, that? That's—a—to cover up the spoons, and forks, and things; quite the latest fashion, now, you know.
Mrs. N. (with self-assertion). I have noticed it at several dinner parties I've been to in society lately, certainly. Still I am not sure that——
Miss de M. I always have them on my own sideboard now—my husband won't hear of any others.... Then, I may put this one in paper for you? fifteen-and-sixpence—thanks so much! (To her colleague, as Mrs. N. departs). Connie, I've got rid of that awful nightgown case at last!
Mrs. Maycup. A—you don't happen to have a small bag to hold a powder-puff, and so on, you know?
Miss de M. I had some very pretty ones; but I'm afraid they're all—oh, no, there's just one left—crimson velvet and real passementerie. (She produces a bag). Too trotty for words, isn't it?
Mrs. Maycup (tacitly admitting its trottiness). But then—that sort of purse shape——Could I get a small pair of folding curling-irons into it, should you think, at a pinch?
Miss de M. You could get anything into it—at a pinch. I've one myself which will hold—well, I can't tell you what it won't hold! Half-a-guinea—so many thanks! (To herself, as Mrs. Maycup carries off her bag.) What would the vicar's wife say if she knew I'd sold her church collection bag for that! But it's all in a good cause! (An Elderly Lady comes up.) May I show you some of these——?
The Elderly Lady. Well, I was wondering if you had such a thing as a good warm pair of sleeping socks; because, these bitter nights, I do find I suffer so from cold in my feet.
Miss de M. (with effusion). Ah, then I can feel for you—so do I! At least, I used to before I tried—(To herself.) Where is that pair of thick woollen driving-gloves? Ah, I know. (Aloud.)—these. I've found them such a comfort!