“Honest?” Ken said, looking at him.
“Yes,” Parker growled. “No need for the two of us to be in the dog-house.”
“That’s swell. Brother! I’ve been sweating it out since I had her letter. I heard this morning. She’s coming back in five days’ time. Her mother’s going into a home. She should have gone weeks ago, and now Ann’s persuaded her. She’s coming back next Monday.”
Parker grunted.
“It’s all right for you, but I’m in a hell of a fix.”
“How’s Maisie this morning?”
Parker shook his head.
“She’s looking like a saint with indigestion. She’s horribly quiet and
polite and distant. I’ll be in the dog-house for months before she gets over it.”
“Buy her an expensive present: a fur coat for the winter,” Ken suggested.