"Simpson! Trotter!" the mistress of the house cried in great wrath. "How dare you stay here when you heard me call? How dare you sit down in my presence? Where's my maid?" The page withdrew his fingers from his mouth with a momentary terror, but the cook took off a glass of Maraschino, of which Mrs. Raggles had had enough, staring at Becky over the little gilt glass as she drained its contents. The liquor appeared to give the odious rebel courage.

"Simpson! Trotter!" Mrs. Crawley cried in great wrath. "How dare you stay here when you heard me call? How dare you sit on my sofa? Where's my maid?"
The cook took a glass of Maraschino, staring at Becky as she drained its contents.
