"Is he going to have another turkey and plum pudding to-night? How greedy!"
"Be quiet, you sassy little cat"—and Joanna's hand swooped, missing Ellen's head only by the sudden duck she gave it.
"Leave me alone, Joanna—you might keep your temper just for Christmas Day."
"I won't have you sass strangers."
"I wasn't sassing."
"You was."
"I wasn't."
Martin felt scared.
"I hope you don't mean me by the stranger," he said, taking up lightness as a weapon, "I think I know you well enough to be sassed—not that I call that sassing."
"Well, it's good of you not to mind," said Joanna, "personally I've great ideas of manners, and Ellen's brought back some queer ones from her school, though others she's learned are beautiful. Fancy, she never sat down to dinner without a serviette."