"Oh, I do think you're quite too brutal and awful!" exclaimed Vicky.
"All right, all right!" Wally said, retreating to the door. "There's no need for you to start! If a man can't make a perfectly innocent remark without creating a scene - now, stop it, Ermy! There's nothing for you to cry about. Anyone would think Harold was going to hurt the gun!"
"Do get it back!" said Vicky. "You're upsetting mother simply dreadfully!"
"Oh, all right!" replied Wally, goaded. "Anything for a quiet life!"
As soon as he had left the room, Vicky abandoned the protective pose she had assumed, and went on eating her breakfast. Ermyntrude glanced apologetically at Mary, and said: "I'm sorry, Mary, but what with that White, and him being so tiresome, and then my poor first husband's gun on top of everything, I just couldn't help bursting out."
"No, he's in one of his annoying moods," agreed Mary. "I shouldn't worry, though. He'll get over it."
"It's all that Harold White," insisted Ermyntrude. "He's been worse ever since he got under his influence."
"I don't think he has, really," said Mary, always fairminded. "I'm afraid it's just natural deterioration."
"Well, all I can say is that I wish the Whites would go and live somewhere else. They've spoiled the place for me."
"One does seem to feel White's influence," said Vicky, with an artistic shiver.