“No,” came the reply, with a touch of pride, so Mornice thought. “No, but I do for her. I’m Emma. What might you want?”
“We are requiring two bedrooms and a sitting-room.”
“Y-es. We could do that. Are you theatricals? But there! I needn’t ask, for it’s stamped on your faces as plain as the words on a wall.”
Eliphalet remarked that the doorstep was inhospitable, and suggested they might be invited to inspect the rooms.
“You shall see them,” said Emma, adding, “Such as they are.” She led them within. “There—this’d be the sitting-room, if you was to take it.”
“But it is, in any case,” said Mornice with a twinkle.
Emma shook her head discouragingly.
“Well, come!” said Eliphalet. “This is quite comfortable.”
It was the twin of every other theatrical parlour, with its ponderous wallpaper, plush upholsterings and curtains, palm pedestal in the window and draper’s paintings on the walls.
Emma nodded gloomily.