"Well you were mistaken, that's what you were," said the green lady. "I must say——! Of all the things!"
"I'm really very sorry," said Henry. "I've never done such a thing before. It must seem very rude."
"Well it is rude," said the green lady. "If you were to ask me to be as polite as possible and not to hurt anybody's feelings, I couldn't say anything but that. All the same there's no offence taken as I see there was none meant!"
She smiled; the gleam of a distant gold tooth flashed through the air.
"If there's anything I can do to apologize," said Henry, encouraged by the smile, but hating the smile more than ever.
"No apologies necessary," said the green lady. "Tenssen's my name. Danish. This is Mrs. Armstrong—My daughter Christina——"
As she spoke she smiled at Henry more and more affectionately. Had it not been for the girl he would have fled long before; as it was, with a horrible sickening sensation that in another moment she would stretch out a fat arm and draw him towards her, he held his ground.
"What about a cup of tea?" she said. At that word the room seemed to spring to life. Mrs. Armstrong moved heavily to the table and sat down with the contented abandonment of a cow safe at last in its manger. The girl also sat down at the opposite end of the table from her mother.
"It's very good of you," said Henry, hesitating. "The fact is that I'm not very clean. I had an accident in Piccadilly and lost my hat."