Mrs. Sixsmith looked away.
“Are you coming, Serephine?” her neighbour asked.
“Are you all off?”
The florid man nodded impressively.
“Yes ... we’re going now....” he said.
“What are Whipsina’s plans?”
Miss Peters leaned closely forward over several pairs of knees.
“I shall stay where I am,” she murmured, “and perhaps take a nap. There’s sure to be a tremendous exodus directly.”
Miss Sinquier rose. “I’ve some shopping,” she said, “to do.”
“Until this evening, then.”