Chapter Twelve
‘What an appalling mess,’ declared Gussie, who had taken one look at the disordered state of Mrs. Everleigh’s dressing-room and recoiled.
‘No. Is it?’ said Clarissa vaguely, stepping over a discarded straw bonnet, only to tread heavily upon the sleeve of a dark blue velvet gown.
‘I suppose your chamber would look much the same, had you no maid to tidy it for you.’ Gussie spoke with a little scorn; such chaos was only too fitting for the abominable Clarissa. ‘Do watch where you step, or something is bound to be—’
A crunch of shattering glass interrupted her. Clarissa lifted her foot, shedding shards of some destroyed costume-jewellery.
‘—broken,’ Gussie finished, with a sigh.
‘Ladies, did I not ask you to wait outside—’ Mr. Ballantine began, and cut himself off with a s
