You ask "if they're in," and she looks you all over,—
It's clear she's quite new to an afternoon call,—
P'raps takes you for Turpin, Bill Sikes, the Red Rover;
But she says that she'll "see," and leaves you in the hall.
You are ushered upstairs, which a Dutch carpet graces,
To a drawing-room, curtained at threepence a yard,
Where Japanese gimcracks appear in odd places,
Though Aspinall clearly has proved their trump card;
For here it envelopes a plain kitchen-table,
There a weak wicker lounge which invites not repose;