"Hello, Farley. Hello." Mr. Price got up reluctantly. His hand clasp was a condescension.
Mr. Farley had given his hand limply. His mouth bent with acceptance. His smile was still tolerant but a little bitter, and he did not look up.
"Winnie comes first, Farley. Time to disagree about other things later."
"I hope we are through with disagreements."
"Yes, Farley, I hope we are. Ahem."
Mr. Price sat down again abruptly.
"I'm so happy, Papa Farley!"
Winnie's eyes. He shuddered, trying not to see them, fearful that he would forget to smile. "I'm glad you are, dear."
Winnie clapped her hands and turned once more to her mother. "Bobby! You haven't seen Bobby! Oh, he's the dearest——He's upstairs taking a nap."
Alice stood defiantly in the center of the gloomy room, her feet apart, her stout hips set out. "Want me to see if he's awake?"