"Doesn't she want to come down?"
"It's so provoking; she's not a bit like my Dorothy--at least, in a way she isn't. I can't think what's the matter with her. She seems to be a bundle of nerves. I hardly dare open my mouth for fear of saying something which will make her jump."
"She does seem to be more sensitive than, from your description of her, I expected; I've noticed it myself."
"My darling mumkins, she's not the same girl. Something's wrong with her--I can't think what--and I daren't ask."
"She doesn't seem to be an easy person to ask questions of."
"She used to be; we used to tell each other every single thing; we used to delight in answering each other's questions; but now---- I believe she's bewitched, I really do!"
"What do you mean by she's bewitched?"
"Why, she's--she's so strange; she gives me the feeling that only her body's here, while she is somewhere else; it--it really is uncanny. She never speaks unless you speak to her, and when you speak to her she doesn't listen. You can see she tries to listen; then, when you're in the middle of a sentence, you find that she's paying not the slightest attention to you, and that she's staring at something in such a way that you turn, with a start, to see whatever it can be; and you have quite an uncomfortable feeling when you discover that, whatever it is she's looking at, it's something which you can't see."
"Did you say she doesn't want to come down?"
"I didn't say so; but she doesn't. She makes me really cross; it is so annoying! There she is, looking a perfect picture: she has only to show herself to take the people by storm. I had no idea she was so pretty! And she says she would rather stay indoors, after all the trouble I have taken with her, because she doesn't feel like seeing anyone."