“It was made by me!”
“Oh, Violet....” the Duchess murmured, her face taking on a look of wonder.
“Don’t forget, dear, Sunday.”
“Is it a party?”
“I’ve asked Grim-lips and Ladybird, Hairy and Fluffy, Hardylegs and Bluewings, Spindleshanks, and Our Lady of Furs.”
“Not Nanny-goat?”
“Luckily ...” the Countess replied, raising to her nose the heliotropes in her hand.
“Is he no better?”
“You little know, dear, what it is to be all alone with him chez soi when he thinks and sneers into the woodwork.”
“Into the woodwork?”