“Yes, the girl who is always whistling for taxis,” said Mrs. Heywood.
“What, you mean the one who complained about my singing in the bath?”
“Yes, I shall never forgive her for that.”
“Said she didn’t mind if I sang in tune.”
“Yes, the one who sells a Suffragette paper outside Victoria Station.”
“It’s the sort of thing she would do,” said Herbert, with great sarcasm.
“I never liked her, my dear,” said Mrs. Heywood.
“Confound her impudence! As if a British subject hasn’t an inalienable right to sing in his bath! She had the cheek to say I was spoiling her temper for the rest of the day.”
Mrs. Heywood laughed rather bitterly. “She looks as if she had a temper!”
Herbert gave the pamphlets an angry slap with the back of his hand and let them fall on the floor.