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Updated: June 13, 2025
My name's Impett Rose Impett." "Mine's Keeves," said Mavis, thinking she may as well be agreeable to those she had to live with. She then went to her boxes and saw that the odd-looking servant had uncorded them. "Thank you," said Mavis. "I dessay it's more than you deserve," remarked the servant. "I daresay," assented Mavis. "Let's have a look at you." "What?"
When Mavis had first been introduced to the three girls with whom she shared her bedroom, she had intuitively felt that there was a broad, invisible gulf which lay between her and them; as time went on, this division widened, so far as Miss Impett and Miss Potter were concerned, to whom Mavis rarely spoke.
"Don't you wish you had the chance?" snapped the girl who was attending her friend. "I always drink Kummel; it's much more ladylike," remarked Miss Impett. "You'd drink anything you can bally well get," the sufferer cried at a moment when she was free of pain. "I am a lady. I know how to be'ave when a gentleman offers me a drink," retorted Miss Impett.
To her surprise, her remark aroused the other girls' ire; they looked at Mavis and then at one another in astonishment. "I defy anyone to prove that I'm not a lady," cried Miss Impett, as she bounced out of the room. "I'm as good as you any day," declared Miss Potter, as she went to the door. "Yes, that we are," cried Miss Allen defiantly, as she joined her friend. Mavis sat wearily on her bed.
The girls were in bed, although no one had troubled to turn off the flaring jet. As they became more and more possessed with the passion for effective retort, Mavis saw vile looks appearing on their faces: these obliterated all traces of youth and comeliness, substituting in their stead a livid commonness. "We know all about you!" cried loud-voiced Miss Impett.
It was a similar noise which had awakened Mavis. "I suppose we shan't get to sleep for an hour," yawned Miss Impett, as she struggled into a not too clean nightdress. "Oh, you cat, you!" gasped the sufferer. "It's your own fault," retorted Miss Impett. "You always over-eat yourself and drink such a lot of that filthy creme de menthe."
The girl, Miss Impett, to whom she had already spoken, was sitting on her bed, yawning as she pulled off her stockings. Another, a fine, queenly-looking girl, in evening dress, was sitting on a chair with her hands pressed to her stomach; her eyes were rolling as if she were in pain. The third girl, also in evening dress, but not so handsome as the sufferer, was whispering consoling words.
"What what's it you dared me to say?" asked Miss Impett breathlessly, as her face went livid. "Don't don't say it," pleaded Miss Allen; but her interference was ineffectual. "That I picked up gentlemen in evening dress," bawled Miss Potter. "Say it: say it: say it! I dare you!" "I do say it. I'll tell everyone. I've watched you pick up gentlemen in " She got no further.
"But ma was quite a lady till she started to let her lodgings in single rooms." "Don't say any more and let's all go to sleep," urged pacific Miss Allen, who was all the time keeping an anxious eye on her friend Miss Potter. Miss Impett, perhaps fired by her family reminiscence, was not so easily mollified.
"Haven't you a 'boy'?" asked Miss Potter. "A what?" "A young man then," said Miss Potter, as she made a deft line beneath her left eye with an eye pencil. "I don't know any young men," remarked Mavis. "Hadn't you better be quick and pick up one?" asked Miss Impett. "I don't care to make chance acquaintances," answered Mavis.
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