Dot considered the other woman, wiping floury hands on her apron.

"I know you're asking something," her tone was apologetic, she didn't speak French, for all Miss Phryne might have tried to teach her. She frowned and pointed miming eating a cookie then pointed at the dough and mimed kneading.

"Are you asking for a cookie? Or.. what I'm making?" Or something else entirely. Bother. Her latin wasn't much unless you wanted to pray to the blessed virgin but it was better than she could do in French, she wondered if this woman spoke latin.