Hie to the office, Jane. Don't you borrow borrowings from me if
you are sacked."
"You are as sly as the cow that steals into clover," Annie cried out.
She removed her large hat and set upright the osprey feathers thereon,
puffed out her hair which was fashioned in a high pile, and whitened
with powder the birth-stain on her cheek. "They daren't discharge me.
I'd carry the costume trade with me. Each second you hear, 'Miss
Witton-Griffiths, forward,' and 'Miss Witton-Griffiths, her heinness is
waiting for you.' In favor am I with the buyer."
"Whisper to me your average takings per week," Simon craved. "Not repeat
will I."
After exaggerating her report, Annie said: "You are going now, then."
Jane fach took from a chair a cup that had tea in it, a candlestick--the
candle in which died before Jacob--and a teapot, and she sat in the
chair. "Oo-oo," she squeaked. "Sorry am I you are flown."
"Stupid wenches you are," Simon admonished his sisters. "And curious.
Scandalous you are to pry into the leavings of the perished dead."
Jane fach, whose shoulders were crumped and whose nose was as the beak
of a parrot, put forth her head.
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