“Chow,” said Miss Gannett. “Quite wonderful for our little village, I’m sure. By the way, Clara⁠—my maid, you know⁠—is great friends with Elsie, the housemaid at Fernly, and what do you think Elsie told her? That there’s been a lot of money stolen, and it’s her opinion⁠—Elsie’s⁠—I mean, that the parlour maid had something to do with it. She’s leaving at the month, and she’s crying a good deal at night. If you ask me, the girl is very likely in league with a gang . She’s always been a queer girl⁠—she’s not friends with any of the girls round here. She goes off by herself on her days out⁠—very unnatural, I call it, and most suspicious. I asked her once to come to our Girls’ Friendly Evenings, but she refused, and then I asked her a few questions about her home and her family⁠—all that sort of thing, and I’m bound to say I considered her manner most impertinent. Outwardly very respectful⁠—but she shut me up in the most barefaced way.”

Miss Gannett stopped for breath, and the colonel, who was totally uninterested in the servant question, remarked that in the Shanghai Club brisk play was the invariable rule.