KIPPS
"What are you, please?" said an extraordinarily bold, tall girl, and arrested him while she took down "Cypshi."
"I'm sure I don't know what it means," she explained. "I'm Sir Bubh. Don't you think anagrams are something chronic?"
Kipps made stockish noises, and the young lady suddenly became the nucleus of a party of excited friends who were forming a syndicate to guess, and barred his escape. She took no further notice of him. He found himself jammed against an occasional table and listening to the conversation of Mrs. "Wogdelenk" and his lady with the big bonnet.
"She packed her two beauties off together," said the lady in the big bonnet. "Time enough, too. Don't think much of this girl she's got as housemaid now. Pretty, of course, but there's no occasion for a housemaid to be pretty—none whatever. And she doesn't look particularly up to her work either. Kind of 'mazed expression."
"You never can tell," said the lady labelled "Wogdelenk"; "you never can tell. My wretches are big enough, Heaven knows, and do they work? Not a bit of it!". . .
Kipps felt dreadfully out of it with regard to all these people, and dreadfully in it with Ann.
He scanned the back of the big bonnet and concluded it was an extremely ugly bonnet. It went jerking forward as each short, dry sentence was snapped off at the end and a plume of osprey on it jerked excessively. "She hasn't guessed even one!" followed by a shriek of girlish merriment, came from
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