The door opened and Lady Charles came in. She was now dressed. Her grey hair shone in a mass of small curls, her thin face was delicately powdered, and she looked and smelt delightful.
“How’s old Robin Grey?” she asked.
“Very happy.”
Lady Charles turned on the electric heater, drew up a chair, sat in it, folded her short skirt back over her knees and lit a cigarette. Roberta recognized, with a warm sense of familiarity, the signs of an impending gossip.
“I hope you won’t be too uncomfortable, darling,” said Lady Charles.
“I’m in Heaven, Charlot darling.”
“We do so wish we could have you for a long time. What are your plans?”.
“Well,” said Roberta, “my aunt has offered very nicely to have me as a sort of companion, but I think I want a job, a real job, I mean. So, if she agrees, I’m going to try for a secretaryship in a shop, or, failing that, an office. I’ve learnt shorthand and typing.”
“We must see what we can do. But of course you must have some fun first.”
“I’d love some fun but I’ve only got a tiny bit of money. About £200 a year. So I’ve got to start soon.”