'You go,' I said to Henry.
'No, you go,' he replied. 'It looks bad for a man if he is master of
the house to answer the door.'
I do not know why it should look bad for a man to answer his own door
unless he is a bad man. But there are some things in our English
social system which will ever remain unquestioned. I rose and went to
open the front door. The light from the hall lamp fell dimly on a lank
female form which stood on the doorstep. Out of the dusk a voice spoke
to me. It said, 'I think you're wantin' a cook-general?'
I cried out in a loud voice, saying, 'I am.'
'Well, I'm Elizabeth Renshaw. You wrote to me. I got your letter sent
on from the Registry Office along with ninety others. But I liked
yours the best, so I thought there'd be no 'arm in coming to see----'
'Come in, Elizabeth,' I said earnestly. 'I'm glad you liked my letter.'
I began to wonder if I was not a great writer after all.
CHAPTER II
I piloted Elizabeth in and bade her be seated. Strangely enough, my
usual hopeful expectations entirely deserted me at that moment. I felt
that the interview would be fruitless. They say hope springs eternal
in the human breast, but my breast didn't feel human just then. It was
throbbing with savage and sanguinary thoughts. Perhaps it was the
eggs. Many animals are rendered ferocious by an over-diet of meat. I
can testify (so can Henry) that an over-diet of eggs has exactly the
same effect on human beings.
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