nice now. Are you going for a walk? Yes. Isn’t the young green beautiful? So beautiful—quite burning. Good morning—good morning—you’ll come and see me?—thank you so much—next week—yes—good-bye, g-o-o-d b-y-e.”
Gudrun and Ursula stood and watched her slowly waving her head up and down, and waving her hand slowly in dismissal, smiling a strange affected smile, making a tall queer, frightening figure, with her heavy fair hair slipping to her eyes. Then they moved off, as if they had been dismissed like inferiors. The four women parted.
As soon as they had gone far enough, Ursula said, her cheeks burning,
“I do think she’s impudent.”
“Who, Hermione Roddice?” asked Gudrun. “Why?”
“The way she treats one—impudence!”