She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. ’ ‘And if she can’t?’ asked Lucy. There you are, the best client’s chair. English a little! ‘You ought to have English only. ‘More, I think,’ put in Madame, soulfully regarding the major, ‘because I have English, a little. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. ‘Of course. He had said so.
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