"What things?"
"About your mother having to go to bed."
"Why should my mother have to go to bed?"
"Oh, Robert—because it's the custom."
"It is not. Why do you suppose it is the custom?"
"What? When I've just been put there? And you saw me go?"
"Ingeborg—"
"Oh, don't call me Ingeborg—"
"Ingeborg, this is levity. I am prepared for much accommodating of myself to whims in regard to food and kindred matters, but am I to endure levity for nine months?"
She stared at him.