“Possibly Doyle’s nephew,” said the Major, “with a sample statue. He ought to submit samples to us.”
“Come in whoever you are,” said Dr. O’Grady.
Mary Ellen half opened the door and put her head into the room. Dr. O’Grady realised the moment he saw her that something must have gone wrong in the dressmaker’s shop. He assumed, without enquiry, that Mrs. Ford had been making herself objectionable.
“What has Mrs. Ford done now?” said Dr. O’Grady. “I can’t go to her till this meeting is over.”
“Mrs. Ford’s off home this half hour,” said Mary Ellen. “She said she wouldn’t put up with the nonsense that was going on.”
This was a relief to Dr. O’Grady. If Mrs. Ford had gone home the difficulty, whatever it was, must be capable of adjustment.
“Then what on earth do you want? Surely you and Mrs. Gregg haven’t been quarrelling with each other.”
“Mrs. Gregg says——” said Mary Ellen.
Then she paused, looked at Dr. O’Grady, looked at Doyle, and finally took courage after a glance at Father McCormack.
“She says, is there to be white stockings?”