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At the white-painted door with its
shining brass eagle knocker he made
Bistre understand that he was to remain
outside, and then demanded admittance.
It was Miss Veridian that
answered his knock; or it may have
been Miss Anamite; Miles refused to
commit himself. He addressed her as
"Miss Ruggles" in quite his most winning
manner, said he'd dropped in to
beg a cup of the nectar which they
dispensed under the name of tea, and
in a moment found himself, divested
of rain-coat and cap, in the little old-fashioned
parlor. The Misses Ruggles
were manifestly pleased and flattered.
Miss Anamite—or it may have
been Miss Veridian—fluttered feverishly
to the tea-table, in spite of the
fact that it was but three o'clock, and
fluttered quite as feverishly out of the
room bearing the gleaming kettle.
