HANNAH (_looking with better eyes than her mistress at the large ormolu
clock which records eternally the time of the great Exhibition_).
Almost a quarter to six, Ma'am.

JULIA. So late? She ought to have been here long ago.

HANNAH. Who, Ma'am, did you say, Ma'am?

JULIA. My sister, Mrs. James. You remember?

HANNAH. What, Miss Martha, Ma'am? Well!

JULIA. No, it's Miss Laura this time: you didn't know she had married, I
suppose?

HANNAH (_with a world of meaning, well under control_). No, Ma'am.
(_A pause_.) I made up the bed in the red room; was that right,
Ma'am?

JULIA (_archly surprised_). What? Then you knew someone was coming?
Why did you pretend, Hannah?

HANNAH. Well, Ma'am, you see, you hadn't _told_ me before.

JULIA. I couldn't. One cannot always be sure. (_This mysteriously_.)
But something tells me now that she is to be with us. I have been
expecting her over four days.

HANNAH (_picking her phrases a little, as though on doubtful