"Your mother agrees with you, Marian," said Charles. "But not on our handball courts, eh, Spencer?"
Catherine flushed at the submerged note in Charles's words.
"Don't you give my daughter an inferiority complex!" she said, lightly.
But Charles went on, the note rising to the surface.
"You won't find the house in very good shape. I wasn't expecting you so early."
The glow of the meeting was disappearing under the faint, secret friction. Catherine thought quickly, "He didn't like it—the job, or my coming down. But he isn't admitting it." Aloud she said, "Did Flora desert you?"
"Oh, no. She's there, her mouth larger than ever. I meant the finishing touches."
"We can give those."
"There's Morningside Park!" Spencer's shout was full of delight. "Rocks and trees an' everything!" The taxi had left One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street and was bumping along the side street which bordered the park. The rocks shouldered up gray and wet through brown, worn shrubbery.