"How do you do, Mr. Black?" she replied sharply, and the way she said it conveyed the idea that she was absolutely on the defensive.
I went into the kitchen, later, while Betty was there, and I said to her:
"What is the matter with Mrs. Larsen?"
"I don't know. Doesn't she act queerly?"
"She doesn't like us for some reason or other."
"Has Larsen ever said anything about it?"
"Never a word."
"Why not tell her how much you think of Larsen, and how lucky you feel to have him as your manager?" suggested Betty.
"I see. Soft-soap the old girl. All right."
I had to hurry back into the room then, because I couldn't leave my guests for long. In a few minutes I was talking to Mrs. Larsen about the hard time we had had when I bought the business. "I don't know what I would have done if it hadn't been for your husband, Mrs. Larsen. I certainly think I'm lucky to have him, and I know he thinks he's lucky to have you!"