A shabby but clean table-cloth was discovered and placed
upon the table, and in the middle of this the hyacinth was
triumphantly stationed.
"Now I tell you what would be nice," said Maggie, also by this time
breathless, "and that's a lamp. This gas isn't very pleasant, is it,
and it DOES make such a noise."
"It DOES make a noise," said Emily, looking at the gas as though she
were seeing it for the first time.
"Well, do you think there's a lamp somewhere?"
Emily licked her finger.
"I'll ask the missus," she said and disappeared. Soon she returned
with a lamp, its gloriea hidden beneath a bright pink paper shade.
Maggie removed the paper shade, placed the lamp on the table, then
the blue plates, the blue cups and saucers, the blue teapot.
A shrill voice was heard calling for Emily. Maggie had then her
kingdom to herself.
She stood there, waiting and listening. The approaching interview
must have seemed to her the climax of her whole life. She stood,
clasping and unclasping her hands, going to the table, moving the
plates, then moving them back again. Perhaps he would not return at
all that night, perhaps not until midnight or later.
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