Edith was scrubbing the entrance hall on her hands and knees for the millionth time when she heard the giant knocks and heard the cries faintly from behind the thick wood. The tiles behind her gleamed and shone and she was rather loathe to ruin them again. During her hard work, she had had a breakthrough in her novel and had been working it out in her head. No doubt both activities were to be made fruitless now.
Huffing, she dried her hands on her apron front and hauled open the door. "Mr Mitchell, whatever are you shouting?" she said in slight surprise at seeing him there.