When Helen had closed the door behind her Douglas Briggs sank into his chair and covered his face with his hands. After his work and worry of the past few weeks it seemed hard to him that he should be obliged to go through such a scene with his wife. For a few minutes he tortured himself with self-pity. He heard a rap at the door; but he paid no attention. He was in the mood where he wished to speak to no one, to see no one.
XV
“Uncle Doug!”
Briggs whirled impatiently in his chair. “Eh?”
Fanny came forward. “Say, Uncle Doug.”
“Well, what is it?”
“What’s the matter?” Fanny asked.
Briggs frowned. “Matter!” he repeated. “What do you mean?”
“You know. What’s the matter between auntie and you?” Fanny added, brightly. “I don’t mind your being cross with me a bit.”