“Horribly.”
“He ought to have been all the more angry.”
“Of course he ought.”
“The presumption of it!” And Mrs. Hilary smiled. I also smiled.
“That poor old mother of his,” reflected Mrs. Hilary. “Where did you say she lived?”
“Hilary knows the address,” said I.
“Silly little wretch!” mused Mrs. Hilary, still smiling.
“Goodbye,” said I.
“Goodbye,” said Mrs. Hilary.
I turned toward the door and had laid my hand on the knob, when Mrs. Hilary called softly: