“All right, I will come and see her. I may as well give her a piece of my mind.”
Hannah got up. She had never felt so strong before in the whole course of her life. She walked behind Grace, pushing the rich, vulgar girl in front of her. She opened the door of the sitting-room and marched up the room.
Kitty was joking—she was taking Peggy off. “Arrah thin! The top of the morning to ye, me pets,” she said, raising her eyes and fixing them on Hannah. The other girls roared with laughter. Hannah looked gravely at Kitty.
“You don’t suppose,” Hannah said at last, “that you are really taking off Peggy Desmond? She doesn’t speak in the least like that.”
“When I want you to tell me how Peggy Desmond speaks I’ll ask you,” replied Kitty, her face crimson with passion.
“You have sent for me. What do you want me for?” asked Hannah.
“Oh, I don’t want to be bothered long with you. You are going to try, I suppose, for the prize, like the rest of us?”
“No, I am not; I haven’t an idea of trying.”
“Hannah!”
“I am not going to try. Kitty, I presume that if it is impossible for me to try—and I regard it as impossible—it is much, much more impossible for you to try.”