She laid down her fork.
Water, for Heaven's sake, water!" she cried.
Mr. Sedley burst out laughing (he was a coarse man, from the Stock Exchange, where they love all sorts of practical jokes). "They are real Indian, I assure you," said he.
Sambo, give Miss Sharp some water." The paternal laugh was echoed by Joseph, who thought the joke capital.
The ladies only smiled a little.
They thought poor Rebecca suffered too much.
She would have liked to choke old Sedley, but she swallowed her mortification as well as she had the abominable curry before it, and as soon as she could speak, said, with a comical, good-humoured air, "I ought to have remembered the pepper which the Princess of Persia puts in the cream- tarts in the Arabian Nights.
Do you put cayenne into your cream-tarts in India, sir?" Old Sedley began to laugh, and thought Rebecca was a good-humoured girl.
Joseph simply said, "Cream- tarts, Miss? Our cream is very bad in Bengal.
We generally use goats' milk; and, 'gad, do you know, I've got to prefer it!" "You won't like EVERYTHING from India now, Miss Sharp," said the old gentleman; but when the ladies had retired after dinner, the wily old fellow said to his son, "Have a care, Joe; that girl is setting her cap at you." "Pooh! nonsense!" said Joe, highly flattered.
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