Explore "The Lady of the Barge" by W. W. Jacobs on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In the comfortable living-room at Negget's farm, half parlour and half kitchen, three people sat at tea in the waning light of a November afternoon. Conversation, which had been brisk, had languished somewhat, owing to Mrs. Negget glancing at frequent intervals toward the door, behind which she was convinced the servant was listening, and checking the finest periods and the most startling suggestions with a warning ssh!
"Go on, uncle," she said, after one of these interruptions.