Mrs. Piddington twiddled the envelope. Her eyes upon my face warned me, “Don’t forget I am your boss!” “You are to call on the Roarats at once,” she said, and shook my sister’s letter in my face. “I don’t intend to call upon the Roarats, I hate them.” “Your…
Author: Emily Carr
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I was too busy at the Art School to pay much heed to Lyndhurst and Piddington affairs. Mrs. Piddington was watching me closely. Because she was English she called me “my dear” which did not in the least mean that I was dear to her nor she to me.