Then Laura ran in among them, in a tremendous hurry. She wasn't ready yet. It was a maddening, protracted agony, getting Laura off. She had forgotten to lock the cupboard where the whisky was (a shilling's worth in a medicine bottle); and poor Papa might find it. Since he had had his sunstroke you couldn't trust him with anything, not even with a jam-pot. Then Addy, at Laura's request, rushed out of the room to find Laura's hat and her handkerchief and her gloves—not the ones with the holes in them. And then Laura looked at her hands.
"Oh," she cried, "look at my poor hands. I can't go like that. I hate an inky woman."
And she dashed out to wash the ink off.
And then the gloves found by Addy had all holes in them. And at that Laura stamped her foot and said, "Damn!"
The odds against Laura's getting off were frightful.
But she was putting on her hat. She was really ready just as Tanqueray's voice was heard calling on the stairs, "You must hurry up if you want to catch that train." And now they had to deal seriously with Mr. Gunning, who stood expectant, holding his hat and stick.
"Good-bye, Papa dear," said she.
"Am I not to come, too?" said Mr. Gunning.
"Not to-day, dear."
She was kissing him while Jane and Nina waited in the open doorway. Their eyes signed to her to be brave and follow them. But Laura lingered.