Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. “Not a bit. ” They were in the elder Widgett girl’s bedroom; Hetty was laid up, she said, with a sprained ankle, and a miscellaneous party was gossiping away her tedium. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. " "That's the way it goes. It creaked slightly. “Why not? They tell me that London is impossible till after ten, and I want my first impressions to be favourable. ” So that was it! “He came and talked to me.
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