If Effie thought she might have the upper hand (...although calling it the upper hand made it sound as though there was some contest to be had here, a battle to be fought – and why should there be? Why shouldn’t she and Mrs. Drusilla Pettigrew be friendly, if they liked?) here, by being the more knowledgeable, she was fast undeceived. Evidently Miss Selden and her set had not lost track of Brooks Watson entirely.
And Effie was not especially inclined to engage with – whatever game Mrs. Pettigrew thought she was playing, with her tossed off new one comment... but it didn’t hurt to have a better idea of Brooks’ past, either. To know what she was walking into.
The comment had been audacious, she thought. “Pardon me?” Effie asked, not letting her smile falter – and though her brow had furrowed in spite of herself, she tried to pass this off as mere confusion, as if she had not properly heard or understood. Surely the other woman would not repeat her dismissive rudeness. (The new one? It had been five years, she understood, since his last attempt at marrying, and in fact Effie would be his first wife: so there was, to be plain about it, no old one to set her against, whatever Mrs. Pettigrew meant to insinuate.)
And Effie was not especially inclined to engage with – whatever game Mrs. Pettigrew thought she was playing, with her tossed off new one comment... but it didn’t hurt to have a better idea of Brooks’ past, either. To know what she was walking into.
The comment had been audacious, she thought. “Pardon me?” Effie asked, not letting her smile falter – and though her brow had furrowed in spite of herself, she tried to pass this off as mere confusion, as if she had not properly heard or understood. Surely the other woman would not repeat her dismissive rudeness. (The new one? It had been five years, she understood, since his last attempt at marrying, and in fact Effie would be his first wife: so there was, to be plain about it, no old one to set her against, whatever Mrs. Pettigrew meant to insinuate.)
