She was in the kitchen by herself.
"He wants to see you at once," I said.
"Who does?" she asked.
"Mr. John," I said.
"What's he want to see me for?" she asked.
"How do I know?" I answered.
"But you do," she said. She always had an obstinate twist in her, and, feeling it would save time, I told her what had happened.
"Well," I said, "aren't you going?"
She was standing stock still staring at the pastry she was making. She turned to me, and there was a curious smile about her lips.
"Do you know what you ought to be wearing?" she said. "Wings, and a little bow and arrow."