Louise got up, giving Dare’s hammock a little shake. “Tea at four instead of four thirty, do you hear, Mr. Dare dear? Are you thrilled?”
“Couldn’t make it three thirty, could you?”
Louise had caught Miriam’s arm and was towing her into the hall. “Don’t look so glum,” she commanded. “Let’s find Gertie and tell her tea at four, then pack our bags.”
“What will you wear?” Miriam asked, surveying Louise’s khaki and wondering what Louise had meant by “glum”.
“What I have on,” replied Louise.
“What! Riding breeches on the platform?”
“Pooh, everybody in the Valley knows my legs by heart! Besides, an election eve mass meeting isn’t like a speech from the Throne.”
Miriam was wondering whether she should ask for an explanation of “glum”, but remained silent as Louise “told Gertie tea at four”, then led the way upstairs. In Louise’s room, however, the chatter irritated her, and again Louise intrigued her by saying, “For heaven’s sake, Miriam, what’s up?”
“Nothing that I know of.”
“Something is.”