When Dot came rushing in, it wasn't with her usual sensible sangfroid, she wasn't carrying freshly pressed dresses or a pot of coffee as she was wont to do.

She was in fact carrying nothing. Her face was flushed, cheeks scarlet, her usual tidy hair was escaping from it's bun and curling wildly about her face, she was breathless and wide eyed.

In fact for Dot she was positively disheveled.

"Oh, Miss!" She exclaimed and burst into tears.