Do you know that detestable woman Anne stopped for more than
half an hour at Paddington Station this evening, flirting with a ticket
collector, instead of bringing Effie home at once, as I told her to do.
I am very angry about it. She is not to be relied on; we shall have some
accident with the child before we have done. Cannot you discharge her
and get another nurse?"
"No, I cannot. She is the one comfort I have. Where am I going to find
another woman who can make dresses like Anne--she saves me a hundred
a year--I don't care if she flirted with fifty ticket collectors. I
suppose you got this story from Effie; the child ought to be whipped for
tale-bearing, and I daresay that it is not true."
"Effie will certainly not be whipped," answered Geoffrey sternly. "I
warn you that it will go very badly with anybody who lays a finger on
her."
"Oh, very well, ruin the child. Go your own way, Geoffrey! At any rate I
am not going to stop here to listen to any more abuse. Good-night," and
she went.
Geoffrey sat down, and lit a cigarette. "A pleasant home-coming,"
he thought to himself.
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