Mrs. poppit was all dressed up, and she would never walk in the country in such a costume.
“Oh, not a bad-sized little room,” said Mrs. poppit encouragingly.
“I will go and tell Mr. Wyse instantly—dear,” said Mrs. poppit.
About Mrs. poppit now: had she gone to see Mr. Wyse or had she gone to the dentist?
Mrs. poppit transferred her gaze to the wistaria that grew over the steps up to the garden-room.
Mrs. poppit was a climber: that was what she was, and Miss Mapp was obliged to confess that very nimble she had been.
Mrs. poppit was too much interested in what she said to mind where it came from.
“The young man who got into the car at the station was no more the Prince of Wales than you are,” said Mrs. poppit shrilly.
Even as she looked, Mrs. poppit and Isabel crossed the yard into the waiting-room and ticket-office.
As there were only four to talk to, Mrs. poppit thought that she could manage it, and spent a most interesting afternoon.