There was a pause for a reply, but no reply came. Mrs. Sartwell was accustomed to this, as she had said, for there is a brutality of silence as well as a brutality of speech; so she scanned her adversary, as one does who searches for a joint in the armor where the sword’s point will enter. Then she took a firm grasp of the hilt, and pressed it gently forward. Turning over her sewing, and sighing almost inaudibly to it, she remarked, quietly:
“As I said to Mrs. Hope when she called——”
“Said to whom?” snapped Sartwell, turning round suddenly.
“Oh, I thought you were never interested in my callers. I suppose I am allowed to have some private friends of my own. Still, if you wish me to sit in the house all day alone, you have but to say so, and I will obey.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, if you can help it. What was Mrs. Hope doing here?”
“She was calling on me.”
“Quite so. I think I understand that much. What was her mission? What particular fad was on this time?”
“I should think you would be ashamed to speak like that about your employer’s wife, when she did your wife the honour to consult her——”
“About what? That is the point I want to get at.”
“About the strike.”