I don’t think so.
She would rather mumble a nigger song than a chapter from the Bible.
I will ask her a few things from the catechism at my first opportunity.
28th—“Hand me your cup after you are done with your tea!” Mrs. Browning requested. “I will ponder on your fortune.”
“How delightful!” I said.
My fortune?
I remembered how I used to scatter my pocket money among the fortune-tellers, pleased to be informed of a lot of nice things.
What meaning she could find in a cup!
I felt like a mother with her children already in bed, when I dropped my spoon into my tea.
I felt mistress of the situation.