They had traveled all the way from Portsmouth and Alice was exceedingly tired; she was so tired that she found it difficult to take in Dunnian and her first impression of the place was confused and dreamlike. It seemed immense after the little house at Portsmouth. Nina and Maurice received the travelers graciously. “Don’t bother to change,” said Nina. “Just come in as you are. Cook doesn’t like us to be late for dinner; she’s an absolute gorgon.” Nina was in black velvet and diamonds, and her dark hair was piled upon her small head in rows of shining curls—she was the picture of elegance and assurance. If Alice had been permitted to bathe and change, she might have felt better able to cope with Nina, but, as it was, she could find nothing to say except “yes” and “no.” She was tired, and although she had washed her face and hands, she still felt dirty, and she was aware that her tweed coat and skirt were shabby and old-fashioned.
