“Dare!” she said. Only you won’t let me exist!” Mr. Where's the dining room? And, say, can I have some eggs? This jam-tea breakfast gets my goat. And now she insisted that she MUST leave the chastened security of the Tredgold Women’s College for Russell’s unbridled classes, and wanted to go to fancy dress dances in pirate costume and spend the residue of the night with Widgett’s ramshackle girls in some indescribable hotel in Soho! He had done his best not to think about her at all, but the situation and his sister had become altogether too urgent. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. Sorry. She went to the basement and shed her sodden coat and scarf, tossing them into her favorite modern appliance, the electric dryer.
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