“Too tired to bring ’em with you?” she said sarcastically. “All right. Come in!”
William came in gratefully. It was a large, warm, clean kitchen. A small kitchen-maid was peeling potatoes at a sink, and a housemaid in black, with a frilled cap and apron, was powdering her nose before a glass on the wall. They both turned to stare at William.
“’Ere’s the new Boots,” announced Cook, “’is valet’s bringin’ ’is things later.”
The housemaid looked up William from his muddy boots to his untidy hair, then down William from his untidy hair to his muddy boots.
“Imperdent-lookin’ child,” she commented haughtily, returning to her task.
William decided inwardly that she was to have no share at all in the nuggets.
The kitchen-maid giggled and winked at William, with obviously friendly intent. William mentally promised her half a ship-load of nuggets.
“Now, then, Smutty,” said the house-maid with out turning round, “none of your sauce!”
“’Ad your tea?” said the cook to William. William’s spirits rose.
“No,” he said plaintively.