She exposed little weaknesses, she prodded sore places, she
snubbed enthusiasms, she was generally right in a matter of argument, or,
if wrong, she somehow contrived to make her adversary appear foolish and
opinionated. She did, and said, horrible things in a matter-of-fact
innocent way, and she did, and said, matter-of-fact innocent things in a
horrible way. In short, the unanimous feminine verdict on her was that
she was objectionable.
There was no question of taking sides, as the Major had anticipated; in
fact, dislike of Mrs. Pentherby was almost a bond of union between the
other women, and more than one threatening disagreement had been rapidly
dissipated by her obvious and malicious attempts to inflame and extend
it; and the most irritating thing about her was her successful assumption
of unruffled composure at moments when the tempers of her adversaries
were with difficulty kept under control. She made her most scathing
remarks in the tone of a tube conductor announcing that the next station
is Brompton Road--the measured, listless tone of one who knows he is
right, but is utterly indifferent to the fact that he proclaims.
On one occasion Mrs.
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