Catherine went back to her chair to watch the orgy. Margaret was extravagant as water.
"It isn't really a rag, Aunt Margie, is it?" Spencer had his head on one side, deliberating. "It looks like—like pigeons."
"If I could find a gentleman of your discrimination, Spen, I'd grab him in a jiffy!"
"It is like pigeons, isn't it, Mother?" Spencer looked perplexed.
"Yes." Catherine wished Margaret wouldn't tease him. She was lovely, her gray-silver draperies floating around her slim, curving figure, the purple glinting through. It was like a pigeon's breast, that dress.
Letty had a doll, soft and round and almost as large as Letty herself.
"Company for you, when your mother's off at work."
Letty's arms were fast about it, and her deep voice intoned a constant, "Pretty doll! pretty doll!" until Marian's present appeared from its wrappings.
"You stand on it and jump, this way." Margaret was on her feet, her suède toes balancing on the crosspiece.
"Letty jump!"