THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Thank you, Bennet. [_To her sister_] One’s
feet are always so cold after a railway journey.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I’ve been told that, nowadays, they heat the
carriages.
THE YOUNGER MISS WETHERELL. Ah, it is an age of luxury! I wish I knew
which were her favourite flowers. It is so nice to be greeted by one’s
favourite flowers.
THE ELDER MISS WETHERELL. I feel sure she loves lilies.