"Well, of all the gloomy-looking objects!"
The words exploded in the narrowing space between them. Smiling, Jean dragged herself up from her chair. "We're so hungry we're perishing."
Why did she say that?
But Gregory too was glad Mary had come.
"We weren't gloomy. We were thinking—a process quite unknown to you, Doctor."
"Absolutely. Mine's action." Mary threw her things on the couch but did not sit down. Her eyes twinkled. Her whole plump person emanated mystery.
"Mary, what have you got up your sleeve? You're just about ready to burst with it."
"Well, it's not so bad, but it needs the accompaniment of food. Mamie!"
"Dinner's ready."
"Come on. I'll tell you when we reach the demitasses."