She too spoke with bitterness.

She too lived in the ignominious position of an upper servant hated by the master above and the class beneath. She was, she knew, liable to attack from either side at any minute, or from both at once, for the authorities would listen to the complaints of parents, and both would turn round on the mongrel authority, the teacher.

So there was a hard, bitter withholding in Maggie Schofield even as she poured out her savoury mess of big golden beans and brown gravy.

“It is vegetarian hot-pot,” said Miss Schofield. “Would you like to try it?”

“I should love to,” said Ursula.

Her own dinner seemed coarse and ugly beside this savoury, clean dish.