“Well, miss, I can’t say I think much of it—that I can’t. Looks as if you’d tried to make as little of it as you possibly could. In fact, you’ve screwed it that tight, it seems as if you hadn’t hardly any hair at all.”
“When one comes to think of the handfuls you’ve pulled out, Jane——”
“Miss Norah! I have not pulled out handfuls! It’s not fair to talk like that—that it’s not.”
“Then half-handfuls, if you prefer it, Jane. Just look at that heap of hair upon my dressing-table; quite recently it was all upon my head.”
“I’m sure, miss, I’m very sorry. I never thought you’d take it like this. I didn’t mean——”
“That’s all right, Jane. What do a few hairs, more or less, matter? For goodness’ sake, don’t start crying again. Help me on with my bodice; and don’t try to induce me to put my right arm into the left sleeve.”
As I have said, at a quarter to seven, we were still in the throes. It was a few seconds before that time when there came a loud rat-tat at the hall door. I quite jumped.
“There they are!” I cried; “and I’m not ready!”
“That you certainly are not, miss; nor nearly.”
“I don’t know about nearly. I only have to be done up this side, and put something round my neck, and get my gloves on; and then I shall be ready.”