A large pale-green duck's egg sat heavily in an egg-cup, capped, but not covered, by a strange red flannel thing representing a cock's head, which Pamela learned later was called an "egg-cosy" and had come from the sale of work for Foreign Missions.

A metal teapot and water-jug stood in two green worsted nests.
Pamela poured herself out some tea.

"I'm almost sure I told her I wanted coffee in the morning," she murmured to herself, "but it doesn't matter." Already she was beginning to hold Bella Bathgate in awe.

She took the top off the duck's egg and looked at it in an interested way.
"It's a beautiful colour--orange--but"-- she pushed it away--"I don't think I can eat it." She drank some tea and ate a baker's roll, which was excellent; then she rang the bell.
When Bella appeared she at once noticed the headless but uneaten egg, and, taking it up, smelt it.
"What's wrang wi' the egg ?" she demanded.
"Oh, nothing," said Pamela quickly.

"It's a lovely egg really, such a beautiful colour, but"-- she laughed apologetically--"you know how it is with eggs--either you can eat them or you can't.