“I’m Catarina Dolfin-Tron.”
“Kitty Tron!”
“Your own true Kate.”
“When are you going round?”
“Let me finish my hands. My manicurist has left me with such claws.... Poor little soul! When she came to my wedding-finger she just twiddled her rasp and broke out crying. ‘To be filing people’s nails,’ she said, ‘while my husband is filing a petition!’”
“Wonderful that she could.”
“This city has its sadness. Your maid, Smith, while you were in the other room said, ‘Oh, marm,’ she said, ‘what you must have endured; one Smith was enough for me.’”
“Poor Kate!”
“Ah, Julie ...” Mrs. Sixsmith sighed, when the door opening gently was followed by the entry of Mrs. Smee.
“Am I disturbing you?” she asked.