"Oh! and ain't I peckish?" said Kitty, clapping her hands and winking broadly at Fred.
Alice turned to leave the room.
"We may as well go together," said Kitty, following her and slipping her hand through her arm. "Do you know," she said, "when I first came to the house I could scarcely breathe. Why, it's nothing but a nutshell. I never saw such a deeny dawn of a place in the whole course of my life. How many of you live here?"
"Father and mother, and the two boys and I," answered Alice.
"And you are the only girl?"
"Yes."
"Now come to the window and let me have a good squint at you." As Kitty spoke she dragged Alice forward, put her facing the light, and stood herself with her back to it. She began to make a careful scrutiny, calling out her remarks aloud: "Eyes passable, forehead so-so, mouth pretty well, complexion not bad for England, hair—"
"Oh, I say, Kitty, I can't quite stand this," said Alice. "Are those your manners in Ireland? What a wild country it must be!"
"Dear, darling, jolly old place!" said Kitty, dancing up and down.
"And you really give me to understand that people make remarks on one another in that sort of fashion?" said Alice, darting away from her companion and pouring some water into a basin to wash her hands.