e supreme test was yet to come. 'We don't send everything to the laundry,' I began.
'I 'ope you don't,' she broke in, 'leastways my clothes. The state they send 'em back, 'arf torn to ribbons. A girl never 'as 'er 'and out of 'er pocket buying new things. Besides, I like a bit o' washin'--makes a change, I always say.'
My heart began to beat so loudly with hope that I could hardly hear my own voice as I asked, 'How . . . how soon can you come?'
'To-morrow, if you like,' she answered casually. 'I've 'ad a row with the friend I'm stayin' with and I can't abide living-in with folks I've fallen out with.'
I struggled to reconstruct this sentence and then, remembering what was required of me, I remarked, 'And your references?'
She gave me the address of her last place.
'Are they on the 'phone?' I questioned eagerly. 'If so, I'll settle the thing at once.' It seemed they were. I tottered to the telephone. My call was answered by a woman with a thin, sharp voice.
(1920) Humor (Domestic) / Romance (Match making)
R: * * * * *
Elizabeth, the cook and housekeeper to two writers, plays matchmaker in this charming romantic comedy. Its apt look at the world of journalism is too true to still be funny, especially now that the idea of two freelance writers being able to afford household help is ludicrous.
Great book. The author has a great tongue in cheek humour. I was glad to stumble upon this gem. Pretty funny stuff.
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