CHAPTER XXVIII
"That girl," said Mrs Doveton, "she's an epidemic."
"?" said Jane and Lucilla.
"An epidemic, miss—she's catching, like measles and whooping-cough. She catches every man she comes near, and the more the merrier, so she thinks." Mrs. Doveton breathed heavily.
"Sit down and tell us all about it," Lucilla said comfortably, and a green velvet armchair creaked to Mrs. Doveton's acceptance of the invitation.
"There aren't no bounds to her," Mrs. Doveton went on. "There's Mr. Simmons, he's hooked all right; and there's the butcher's young man—she was out with him Tuesday week; and the very boy that brings the daily papers, she stopped him in the shrubbery to ask him riddles."
"Well, there's no harm in that," said Jane. "Some people think riddles amusing. I don't myself, but some people do."
"Some riddles is all right, like 'Why is Westminster Abbey like the fender?' and 'Why is a hen crossing the road like Guy Fox?' But when it comes to asking him what animal falls down from the clouds—well!"
"What animal does? I didn't know any animal did," said Lucilla.
"That's what the young boy said, miss. And then that Gladys, she says, 'Don't know what animal falls from the clouds? Why, the reindeer.' See, miss?—the rain-Dear. Just an excuse for calling the very paper boy 'Dear.' And chucks him under the chin, she does, and asks him whether he ain't looking for a sweetheart."
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