Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. ’ ‘Your plan, then. We have to hang about in the interval. ’ Gerald started. "I'll have to set you right on that, too. “Is that a challenge?” She shrugged her shoulders, all ablaze with jewels. It is better that you go away now, I think. " "Her ladyship will pass through it?" "Of course; there's no other way.
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