“It’s nine o’clock,” said Alexander Junior, severely. “Three minutes to,” he added, looking at his watch.
“Well—I can’t help it now. It’s only—no—it’s sixteen minutes past four by my little clock.”
“Never mind your little clock. I must be going down town at once, and I wish to speak to you. I can’t wait three quarters of an hour.”
“No—of course not.”
“Well—can’t I come in? Aren’t you visible?”
“No. Certainly not. You can’t come in. I’m brushing—my hair. I always brush it—ten minutes.”
“Katharine—this is absurd!” cried Alexander, becoming exasperated. “Put on something and open the door.”
“No. I can’t just—now.” Her phrases were interrupted by the process of vigorous brushing. “Besides—you can talk through the door. I can hear—every word—you say. Can’t you hear me?”
“Yes, I can hear you. But I don’t wish to say what I have to say in the hearing of the whole house.”
“Oh!” The soft sound of the brushing ceased. “In that case I’d rather not hear it at all.”