“There I disagree with you,” she said firmly. “I think its appeal is entirely superficial.”
William had brightened into attention at the first mention of Omshafu, but finding the conversation beyond him, had relapsed into a gloomy stare. Now his state became suddenly fixed; his mouth opened with horror.
MISS EUPHEMIA JUMPED UP WITH A PIERCING SCREAM.
“SOMETHING STUNG ME!” SHE CRIED. “IT’S BEES
COMING FROM UNDER THE SOFA!”
The exhibits were escaping from beneath the hem of Miss Euphemia’s gown. A cockroach was making a slow and stately progress into the middle of the room, several ants were laboriously climbing up Miss Euphemia’s dress. So far no one else had noticed. William gazed in frozen horror.
“I hear that Omshafu has bitten most people this year,” said Miss Fairlow demurely.
Miss Euphemia pursued her lips disapprovingly. She was growing reckless with success. “I think there’s something dangerous in it,” she said.
“You mean its teeth?” said Miss Fairlow brightly.
There was a moment’s tense silence. A horrible suspicion occurred to Miss Euphemia that she was being trifled with. The Higher Thinkers looked helplessly first at her and then at Miss Fairlow. Then Miss Euphemia rose from the sofa with a piercing scream.
“Something’s stung me! It’s bees—bees coming from under the sofa!”