"Madam!" Mania's giggle was splintered and discordant. She poked the cabbie in the ribs with one bony finger. "Did you hear that, Pradeep? He called me Madam."
Pradeep's head lolled forward in response. Mania pursed her lips, briefly dissatisfied. She hoped she hadn't pressed him too hard. She had tried to explain it all to him proper-like, about the tea party and her sister and how he had to come because she said so, but then the silly man had to go all jumpy and shouty and really, what else was she supposed to have done? She'd been overeager in her impatience, though - there was a party waiting for her, after all, and dolls and dinner, and her sister would think her so rude if she was late - and in the heat of the moment Mania had pushed all of that restless energy into the cabbie.
He'd come with her after that, but he'd gone very quiet and slack-jawed. Mania did hope she hadn't broken the poor man. It would be such a waste to see Pradeep ended so quickly, and before they'd even had a chance to play.
Then Lyssa pushed past James, bouncing and bepoodled, and Mania's eyes lit up. "Sister! Oh, sister! This is Pradeep. He drives cars! Say hello to my sister, Pradeep."
Pradeep gurgled something indistinct and a thin line of dribble trickled down his chin.
Mania, if she noticed, didn't seem particularly concerned. Her attention had returned to the boy, James, who she was studying with curious eyes. She had an unnerving way of looking at people, Mania; her stare somehow managing to be vague and unfocussed, yet sharply piercing at the same time, as though she was simultaneously looking past you and straight into you.
"Is that one of your dolls? He's awful pretty. You didn't tell me you had pretty ones."