“Well my dear I dont see what you expect me to do about it.”
“Economize ... economize. Look where the price of rubber’s gone to.... That dress from Hickson’s....”
“Well you wouldnt have me going to the Blackhead’s party looking like a country schoolteacher, would you?”
Mr. Densch groaned and shook his head. “O you wont understand; probably there wont be any party.... Look Serena there’s no nonsense about this.... I want you to have a trunk packed so that we can sail any day.... I need a rest. I’m thinking of going to Marienbad for the cure.... It’ll do you good too.”
Her eye suddenly caught his. All the little wrinkles on her face deepened; the skin under her eyes was like the skin of a shrunken toy balloon. He went over to her and put his hand on her shoulder and was puckering his lips to kiss her when suddenly she flared up.
“I wont have you meddling between me and my dressmakers.... I wont have it ... I wont have it....”
“Oh have it your own way.” He left the room with his head hunched between his thick sloping shoulders.
“Ann-ee!”
“Yes ma’am.” The maid came back into the room.
Mrs. Densch had sunk down in the middle of a little spindlelegged sofa. Her face was green. “Annie please get me that bottle of sweet spirits of ammonia and a little water.... And Annie you can call up Hickson’s and tell them that that dress was sent back through a mistake of ... of the butler’s and please to send it right back as I’ve got to wear it tonight.”