"Put on your fur coat.

Is it downstairs?
Shall I go and fetch it ?" She whispered, "It's in my room--I know where it is.

I know exactly where Pegler put it." She left him standing in the corridor, and went back into her room.

The door was wide open, and he could see that she was wearing a white wrapper covered with large red flowers--some kind of Eastern, wadded dressing-gown.

He heard a cupboard door creak, and then she came out of the room dragging her big fur coat over her dressing-gown; but he saw that her feet were bare--she had not troubled to put on slippers.
"Go back," he said imperiously, "and put some shoes on, Bubbles--you'll catch your death of cold." How amazing, how incredible, this adventure would have appeared to him even a year ago! But it seemed quite natural now--simply wilful Bubbles' way.