“Will—ee! Mamma wants you.” She tried the handle of the door.
“G'way!” he said.
“Will—ee!” Jane hammered upon the door with her fist. “Will—ee!”
“What you want?” he shouted.
Jane explained, certain pauses indicating that her attention was partially diverted to another slice of bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar. “Will—ee, mamma wants you—wants you to go help Genesis bring some wash-tubs home and a tin clo'es-boiler—from the second-hand man's store.”
“WHAT!”
Jane repeated the outrageous message, adding, “She wants you to hurry—and I got some more bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar for comin' to tell you.”
William left no doubt in Jane's mind about his attitude in reference to the whole matter. His refusal was direct and infuriated, but, in the midst of a multitude of plain statements which he was making, there was a decisive tapping upon the door at a point higher than Jane could reach, and his mother's voice interrupted:
“Hush, Willie! Open the door, please.”
He obeyed furiously, and Mrs. Baxter walked in with a deprecating air, while Jane followed, so profoundly interested that, until almost the close of the interview, she held her bread-and-butter and apple sauce and sugar at a sort of way-station on its journey to her mouth.