“Miss Pigot,” I remonstrate, “you shouldn’t be here. I’m not dressed properly.” I roll my sleeves down and put on my jacket. “Really, Miss Pigot, this is most inappropriate. Let me escort you downstairs.” It’s as if I haven’t spoken of this problem before.
“This isn’t a very nice room. There’s no comfortable chair. Everything is stark. Mrs. Wilson will be most upset when I tell her,” Miss Pigot turns her gaze back to me. “Shall I send some cushions and draperies from the orphanage?”
“No. Absolutely not. Miss Pigot, you must leave immediately. Don’t you realize I can be dismissed over this?”
“I don’t see why. We’re just two friends. Are you sorry I came?” Miss Pigot pouts.
“Yes, Miss Pigot.” I gesture towards the door which the houseman opens. “I am sorry you came. Now turn around and go.”
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