4
“What a brute,” said Blanche when the procession had passed on down the hill towards Wycombe.
“How he stared at my hair,” said Millie, with a giggle. “I did try to get it up, but it’s that stubborn with the heat or something.”
“Lucky for us he had that creature with him,” commented Blanche.
Millie assented without fervour. She was bold enough now the danger had passed.
Mrs Isaacson looked from one to the other and attempted no criticism of the adventure.
“You must let me do up your beautiful hair,” she said to the simpering Millie.
Millie was grateful. “It is kind of you, Mrs Isaacson, I’m sure,” she said. “My hair is a trouble. I sometimes think I’ll cut it all off and be done with it....”
She appeared excited and chatted incessantly while the hair-dressing continued, and Blanche restored the remains of their meal to the trolly.