CHAPTER VIAfter this, breakfast was not as bad as it might have been. Mrs. Underwood, in pyjamas and a pink satin dressing-gown, discoursed volubly upon last night’s bridge.
“They had that Miss Roland from the top floor for a fourth—Carola Roland. Plays quite a good game, but if she wasn’t born Carrie Snooks or something like that, I’m very much mistaken. And she isn’t as young as she looks either—not when you see her close to. Of course Mrs. Willard’s got no young people to consider, and I’ll say that for Mr. Willard, faddy and tiresome he may be, but there are worse things in a husband than that, and he isn’t the sort that runs after blondes, though really you can’t be sure about anyone. There was that Willie Tidmarsh that was some sort of cousin of Godfrey’s, and I must say I did think
