In the next room a bell tinkled. The telephone! It always rang when it would bother her most.
She dropped her brush, stood up with one powerful thrust of her body, and went to wipe her hands on the roller-towel which hung, smooth and well-ironed, by the sink.
The bell rang again. Exasperated by its unreasonableness, she darted across the dining-room and snatched the receiver from the hook.
“Yes, this is Mrs. Knapp.”
.......
“Oh, it’s you, Mattie.”
.......
“Oh, all about as usual here, thank you. Helen has one of her awful colds, but not so I have to keep her at home. And Henry’s upset again, that chronic trouble with his digestion. The doctor doesn’t seem to do him any good.”
.......
“No, my eczema is no worse. On my arm now.”