"Yes'm."
"Brother?"
"No'm."
"Sister?"
"No'm."
"Only child, huh?"
"Yes'm."
Then Miss Cobb blew up in a state of breathless haste and bobbing of curls.
"Eats, maw—eats! The crowd's thirsty—spittin' cotton. What's the idea?
My tongue's out. Eats! Quick, for Gawsakes—eats!"
Mrs. Cobb, wide and quivery of hip, retreated precipitately into the slit of hallway. Almost immediately there were refreshments, carried in on portentous black tin trays by a younger Cobb in pigtails and by Mrs. Cobb, swayback from a great outheld array of tumblers and bottles.