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“Youareright,dear,”shesaid.“Thankyouforyour
guidance!Morethanevernowinmynewposition,
itwillbeincumbentonmetoknowwhatTilling
isthinkingandfeeling.Myfingermustbeonitspulse.
ThatbookIwasreadingtheotherday,which
impressedmesoenormously–whatonearthwasit?
Abiography.”
“CatherinetheGreat?”askedGeorgie.Luciahad
dippedintoitlately,butthesuggestionwasintended
tobehumorous.
“Yes:Ishallforgetmyownnamenext.Shealways
hadherfingeronthepulseofherpeople:that
Imaintainwastherealsourceofhergreatness.She
usedtodisguiseherself,youremember,asapeasant
woman–moujik,isn’tit?–andletherselfoutoftheback-
dooroftheWinterPalace,andsatinthebarsandcafés
orwherevertheydrinkvodkaandtea–samovars–and
hearwhatthecommonpeopleweresaying,astonishing
herMinisterswithherknowledge.”
Georgiefeltfearfullyboredwithherandthis
preposterousrubbish.Luciadidnotcaretwostraws
what“thecommonpeople”weresaying.She,inthis
hourofshoppingintheHighStreet,wantedtoknow
whatfreshmischiefElizabethMapp-Flintwashatching,
andwhatMajorBenjyMapp-Flintwasat,andwhether
DivaPlaistow’sIrishterrierhadgotmange,and
ifIreneColeshadobtainedthesanctionoftheTown
SurveyingDepartmenttopaintafrescoonthefront
ofherhouseofanudeVenusrisingfromthesea,and
ifSusanWysehadreallysatdownonherbudgerigar,
squashingitquiteflat.Insteadofwhichshegassed
aboutthedutyoftheMayorElectofTillingtohaveher
fingeronthepulseoftheplace,likeCatherinethe
Great.Suchnonsensewasbestmetwithatouch
ofsarcasm.
“Thatwillbeanewexperience,dear,”hesaid.
“Fancyyourdisguisingyourselfasagypsy-womanand
stealingoutthroughtheback-door,andsittinginthe
barsofpublic-houses.Idocallthatthorough.”
