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Updated: June 18, 2025
"Yes, Aunt Julia," she said, with an air of cool defiance, "it occurred to me many times.... Perhaps if I'd had any choice...." Mrs. Ffinch-Brown grew pale. "It's plain that I'm wasting my time here!" she sneered. Claire went with her aunt to the door.... Mrs. Ffinch-Brown did not cross the threshold of the Robson home again, and when on the following day Claire saw the figure of Mrs.
"I see you came to my rescue again," she said, simply, taking them from him. "I think you know Mr. Stillman, Aunt Julia." Mrs. Ffinch-Brown forced a too-sweet smile as she gave Stillman a nod of recognition.
She was making a quick exit into the dressing-room when she came face to face with her aunt. Mrs. Ffinch-Brown betrayed her confusion by the merest lift of the eyebrows, and she stepped back as if to get a clearer view of her niece, as she said with an air of polite surprise: "You here?" Claire carried her head confidently.
Tom Wynne and that dreadful Ffinch-Brown woman. They both have about as much heart as a cast-iron stove. Miss Robson didn't say so in words, but I gathered that she had called both of them off the relief job. I almost cheered when I realized that fact. I threw out a hint about there being a possibility of my needing an accompanist.
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