“What of that?”
“I mean he lives in a big place, and has heaps and heaps of money,” said Nora.
“So much the better.”
“You cannot go to him shabby. What are you going to do for dress?”
“Mother will manage that.”
“Mother!” Nora leaped up from the window-ledge and stood facing her brother. “You have spoken to mother?”
“Of course I have. Dear me, Nora, you are getting to be quite an unpleasant sort of girl.”
“You have spoken to mother,” repeated Nora, “and she has promised to help you? How will she do it?”
Terence moved restlessly.
“I suppose she knows herself how she will do it.”