Mrs. Venables became vague; her eyes greedily took in impressions from the passers-by.
Miranda said, 'Oh, I say, do let's see!'
Tommy did not open his book. He changed the subject.
'Rather pretty, the way the cinders fall, don't you think?'
Miranda said that the atmosphere was beastly, and that she hated it.
'It gets right inside my clothes—all gritty.' She wriggled distressfully. 'And my shoes are quite full of it. I want to go home to lunch, but mother won't. Mother likes it, I believe.'
'The worst, I am afraid, may be still to come,' Mrs. Venables murmured. 'They say we may expect a terrible night. There are sinister omens....'
'Oh, it is a rotten place,' said Miranda, disgusted.
It grew to be so, more and more, through the day. Tommy met Betty for lunch, then continued his impression-seeking, coated from head to foot in black dust. They arranged to be in for supper at eight. Betty was not surprised when Tommy failed to appear; there was so much of increasing interest going on. Instead, Gina Lunelli came in, seeking cheerful society because she was horribly afraid, with the abandoned physical terror of large, full-blooded people. The Crevequers always cheered one, made one laugh; she sought them, therefore, and found Betty alone, waiting for supper.
Supper restored Gina a little; she became more cheerful, though still observing that there seemed every probability of the world coming to an end in the course of the night.