Annie came in and cut short anything else she might have to say.
“Yes, mother?”
“Isn’t Mr. Folyat with you?”
“No. I thought he was here with you.”
“Sloped, has he? Sloped!—This is Mr. Folyat’s father.”
“Good evening,” said Annie.
An awkward silence came on the three of them, and all three thought of Frederic with varying degrees of wrath.
“My daughter . . .” began Mrs. Lipsett.
“Mother!”
“Tell him yourself then.”