How much are you
going to ask?"
"I can't take less than sixteen."
"Sixteen! I used to get that once; I'd be glad enough to get twelve now.
You can't think of sixteen once you've turned forty, and I've lost my
teeth, and they means a couple of pound off."
Then the door opened, and a woman's voice called to the gaunt woman to
come in. She went in, and Esther breathed a prayer that she might not be
engaged. A minute intervened, and the gaunt woman came out; there were
tears in her eyes, and she whispered to Esther as she passed, "No good; I
told you so. I'm too old for anything but charing." The abruptness of the
interview suggested a hard mistress, and Esther was surprised to find
herself in the presence of a slim lady, about seven-and-thirty, whose
small grey eyes seemed to express a kind and gentle nature. As she stood
speaking to her, Esther saw a tall glass filled with chrysanthemums and a
large writing-table covered with books and papers. There was a bookcase,
and in place of the usual folding-doors, a bead curtain hung between the
rooms.
The room almost said that the occupant was a spinster and a writer, and
Esther remembered that she had noticed even at the time Miss Rice's
manuscript, it was such a beautiful clear round hand, and it lay on the
table, ready to be continued the moment she should have settled with her.
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