“It was new laid,” said the small girl.
She came up to the window and critically inspected the birds. “She laid it,” she said, indicating one of the three.
“She’s not much to look at,” said Flower, regarding the weirdest-looking of the three with some interest.
“She’s a wonderful layer,” said Miss Chiffers, “and as sharp as you make ’em. When she’s in the dust-bin the others ’ave to stay outside. They can go in when she’s ’ad all she wants.”
“I don’t think I’ll have any more eggs,” said Flower, casually. “I’m eating too much. Bacon’ll do by itself.”
“Please yourself,” said Miss Chiffers, turning from the window. “How’s your foot?”
“Better,” said Flower.
“It’s swelled more than it was yesterday,” she said, with ill-concealed satisfaction.
“It feels better,” said the captain.
“That’s ’cos it’s goin’ dead,” said the damsel; “then it’ll go black all up your leg, and then you’ll ’ave to ’ave it orf.”