“I’ve done, thanks.” She bowed her head and spoke rapidly in an undertone “F,” “What we have received the Lord make us—”
The fact that the tall sister from Eaton Square called before Louisa had changed and taken her hair out of curlers was attributed by Louisa to the tall sister’s unvarying desire to see Page’s Walk at its worst, to find thus excuse for showering upon it her contempt. Alice, from a lofty height added to by an astonishing hat from which Louisa could not, in spite of herself, keep her eyes, complained bitterly to her sister of the state of Old Kent Road, upbraided Erb for the impudence of a ’bus conductor who, because she had talked a little on the way, offered to carry her on to the Deaf and Dumb Asylum without extra charge. “The vulgar humour of these poor men,” said Alice, unnecessarily dusting a chair before sitting down, “appals one.” She mentioned that the Eaton Square coachman had offered to drive her anywhere she wanted to go, but that, for various reasons, into which she preferred not to enter, she had declined.
“I’ve brought you a bottle of Burgundy, Louisa. You’ll find it in my muff.”
“To put on me ’andkerchief?” asked Louisa satirically.
The tall sister glanced appealingly first at the stolid Erb, then at the ceiling.
“I am on good terms with the housekeeper,” she explained, “for the moment, and there is no difficulty in obtaining any little thing of this kind. And you’re not looking well. You want picking up.”
“Your idea seems to be to give me a set down,” said Louisa. “Going to take your things off?”
“I’ll just loosen my jacket. I won’t take it off, thank you.”
“You know the state of the lining better than I do. Erb, you’re silent all at once.”
“I was thinking,” said Erb, going across the room and taking the bottle from its resting place. “How much does a bottle of Burgundy wine like this run into, Alice?”