"Wasn't that Tripe's infernal dog again?"
"Was it? I didn't see." She was wiping slobber on to her skirt from an envelope whose strong perfume had excited the dog's salivary glands. But it was true that she did not see.
"May I call you Theresa?"
"Why?"
"It would encourage confidences. There isn't another woman in Sialpore whom I could tell what I'm going to say to you. The others would repeat it to their husbands, or—"
"I tell mine everything. Every word!"
"Or they'd try to work me on the strength of it for little favors—"
"Wait until you know me! Little favors don't appeal to me. I like them big—very big!"
"Honestly, Theresa—"
"Better call me Mrs. Blaine."