She snapped a dimpled pink thumb and forefinger at the whole exhibit, made a face at the skinniest one of all, and then sneaked casually into Bill's arms.
“Nice, nice,” she cooed, patting his mastoid process. “Run along now, and I'll plan my party.”
“That Boddy woman,” remarked Beer, as she dressed Warble; “she is a pest—a pill! Wait, Maddum, I beg you! I've only rouged one of your cheeks!”
“That's enough,” said Warble, inattentively, and she danced down stairs to freeze out her caller.
“I've been meaning to come for some time,” Mrs. Holm Boddy said, “but I thought I'd give you a chance to get a little used to your new grandeur. Quite a change for you, isn't it?”
“No,” said Warble, “it's rather a come down. I've always been very grand. Tell me about yourself.”
“Oh, I'm the old-fashioned wife and mother. Devoted to my home, and my family. I deplore the modern tendency to neglect one's own fireside.”
“Yes, I should think you'd be happier there than anywhere else.”
Warble gazed at her guest. She was a tall, angular woman, so gaunt that her bones rattled. Warble wondered if Bill would really like her to be like that.