“Go on then.”
“Now don’t be a cross old goose, and—”
“Gander,” I suggested.
“Now don’t be so stupid and tiresome, dear, but just listen. Now, Mrs Parabola’s furniture is going to be sold to-morrow, and you’d better go and pick up a few things.”
“Pick up,” I said, “why they won’t let you have anything unless you pay for it.”
“Dear me, how exceedingly witty,” said Mrs S. “Have you quite finished, sir?”
I felt scorched, so held my tongue, and submitted to the scolding.
“Now I see that Jane has completely ruined that dinner-service: the vegetable-dish covers are all broken but one, and that has no handle; the soup tureen has a great piece out of the side; there are only five soup plates left, while as to the dinner plates, they are that cracked and chipped, and—”
“If you want a new service, why don’t you say so, and not go dodging about and beating the bush in that way?” I exclaimed viciously.
“Then you know, dear,” continued Mrs S, without noticing my remark, “we want some more glass, and I’d get one of those nice wool mattresses Mrs Parabola was so proud of, and we must have a fresh carpet in the dining-room, for ours is perfectly disgraceful. What? people come to see us and not our carpets? Well I suppose they do, but we need not disgrace them by making believe to be so poor. And let’s see, there’s a very pretty china tea-service that I certainly would get, dear, and a few of those damask table-cloths and napkins.”