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"Of course, if certain people, who're nobodies, try to be'ave as somebodies, one naturally wants to know where they've learned their classy manners," she remarked. "Was you referring to me?" asked Miss Potter. "I wasn't speaking to you," replied Miss Impett. "But I was speaking to you. Was you referring to me?" "Never mind who I was referring to."
The odour of drugs mingled with the other smells of the chamber, which she mitigated, in some measure, by opening the window as far as she was able. She pulled off her tight boots, enjoying for some moments a pleasurable sense of relief; then she tumbled into bed, soon to fall asleep. She was awakened by the noise of voices raised in altercation. Miss Potter and Miss Impett were having words.
"No, that I h'ain't," continued irate Miss Impett. "I've watched you when you didn't know I was by and seen the way you've made eyes at gentlemen in evening dress." Much as Mavis was shocked at all she had heard, she was little prepared for what followed. The next moment Miss Potter had sprung out of bed; with clenched fists, and features distorted by rage, she sprang to Miss Impett's bedside.
"Well, she shouldn't say I ought to wash my hands before getting into bed," remarked Miss Impett. "I didn't say you should," said Miss Potter. "What did you say?" "What I said was that anyone with any pretension to the name of lady would wash her hands before getting into bed," corrected Miss Potter. "I know you don't think me a lady," broke out Miss Impett.
Miss Allen, who, in all other respects, toadied to and imitated Miss Potter, was disposed to be friendly to Mavis. Miss Impett, who on occasion swore like any street loafer, Mavis despised as a common, ignorant girl.
Miss Potter struck her in the mouth. "You beast!" cried Miss Impett. Miss Potter struck her again. "You beast: you coward!" yelled Miss Impett. "It's you who's the coward, 'cause you don't hit me. Take that and that," screamed Miss Potter, as she hit the other again and again. "And if you say any more, I'll pull your hair out." "I'm not a coward; I'm not a coward!" wept Miss Impett.
When this at last arrived, there was a rush to the bedrooms. Mavis, who was now suffering tortures from a racking headache, went listlessly upstairs; she wondered if she would be allowed to go straight to bed. When she got into the room, she found everything in confusion. Miss Potter, Miss Allen, and Miss Impett were frantically exchanging their working clothes for evening attire.
Miss Potter's face went white; she raised her hand as if to strike Miss Impett, but as the latter stared her in the eyes, the other girl flinched. Then, tears came into Miss Potter's eyes as she faltered: "Oh! Oh, you story!" "Story! story!" began Miss Impett, but was at once interrupted by pacific Miss Allen. "Ssh! ssh!" she cried fearfully. "I shan't," answered Miss Impett.
"What about love?" "That's a luxury. If the stage and books was what life really is, we shop-girls wouldn't like 'em so much." Mavis relapsed into silence, at which Miss Allen said: "Of course, in my heart, dear, I think just as you do and would like to have no 'truck' with Ada Potter or Rose Impett; but one has to know which side one's bread is buttered. See?"
"Happily, that's not a privilege desired in your case," retorted Miss Potter. "And why not?" Miss Impett demanded to know. "We might learn too much." "What does anyone know of me that I'm ashamed of?" roared Miss Impett. "That's just it." "Just what?" "Some people have no shame." "Do try and remember you're ladies," put in Miss Allen, in an effort to still the storm.
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