In the meantime you may take my word for it, and try to understand how Esther felt as she bent, perforce, over the photo of a dark-browed lad whose very expression was in itself a valid protest against photography.
"Ugly, wasn't he?" asked Mrs. Coombe.
"Very," said Esther.
"Perfectly fierce," said Jane, peering over her shoulder. "Really fierce, I mean, not slang. He looks as if he would love to bite somebody."
"The photographer, probably."
Esther shrugged her shoulders and laid the photo carelessly upon the table. So careless was she, in fact, that a sharp "Look out!" from Jane did not prevent a sudden jerk of her elbow upsetting her steaming cup of coffee right over the pictured face.
With an angry exclamation, Mary sprang forward to rescue her property but Esther had already picked it up and was endeavouring to repair the damage with her table napkin.
"Oh, do take care!" said Mary irritably. "Don't rub so hard—you'll rub all the film off—there! What did I tell you?"
"Dear me! who would ever have dreamed it would rub off that easily?"
Esther surveyed the crumpled bits of photo with convincing dismay.
"Any one, with sense. It's ruined—how utterly stupid of you, Esther." Mary's voice quivered with anger. "You provoking thing! I believe you did it on purpose."