“Ye-es.” Mame’s answer was a trifle dubious even if she did her best not to make it so.
“What did you think of the Towers?”
“Bully!” said Mame. And then she asked, less out of a sense of duty than from a desire to change the subject, “How’s the work been getting on?”
“Gerty Smith is splendid. She’s such a worker.” Lady Violet sighed humorously. “Oh, how I hate work!”
Mame fully believed her. Girls of her special type must long ago have overlaid the habit. The conviction in Celimene’s voice did not lessen Mame’s respect for her. She had real grit, this girl, to be able to buckle to in the way she did.
“There’s a letter for you from New York.” Lady Violet pointed to the table. “I hope there’s no complaint of the firm. We’ve not been sending many bonnes bouches in the way of news lately.”
“No, we haven’t,” agreed Mame, as she opened the letter. It merely contained the monthly cheque.
“That’ll come in very useful.”
“I’ll say yes, honey,” was Mame’s comment to herself.
Lady Violet then went off. She was dining with the Childwicks and going on with them to Covent Garden to the Russian ballet, and so did not expect to be home till rather late. Mame was left to a lonely meal round the corner at the Ladies Imperium. She had made a certain number of friends there, but she was not in a mood for promiscuous conversation; therefore she returned to an early bed.