"Patricia, don't be indelicate," snapped Miss Brent.
"I'm not indelicate, Aunt Adelaide, I'm merely being accurate," said Patricia wearily.
"Cannot we go to your room?" enquired Miss Brent.
"Impossible!" announced Patricia. "It's like an oven by now. The sun is on it all the afternoon. Besides," continued Patricia, "my affairs are public property here. We are quite a commune. We have everything in common—except our toothbrushes," she added as an afterthought.
"Well! Let us get over there."
Miss Brent rose and made for the corner farthest from Miss Wangle and Mrs. Mosscrop-Smythe. Patricia followed her wearily.
"I've just snubbed those two women," announced Miss Brent, as she seated herself in a basket-chair that squeaked protestingly.
"There were indications of electricity in the air," remarked Patricia calmly.
"I want to have a serious talk with you, Patricia," said Miss Brent in her best it's-my-duty-cost-it-what-it-may manner.
"How can anyone be serious in this heat?" protested Patricia.