She hadn’t been in that room five minutes before she had created a situation; a situation that bristled with difficulty and danger.
To begin with, she was so young. She couldn’t have been, then, a day older than one-and-twenty. My first instinct (at least, I suppose it was my first) was to send her away; to tell her that I was afraid she wouldn’t do, that she was too unpunctual, and that I had found, between nine-thirty and ten o’clock, somebody who would suit me rather better. Any lie I could think of, so long as I got out of it. So long as I got her out of it.
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