It was the Crippses who were coming, of course. Mr. and Mrs. Cripps and Hephzy. They would have come sooner, I learned afterwards, but Hephzy had prevented it.
Solomon's red face was redder still when he saw us together. And Mrs. Cripps' mouth looked more like “a crack in a plate” than ever.
“So!” she exclaimed. “Here's where you are! I thought as much. And you—you brazen creature!”
I objected strongly to “brazen creature” as a term applied to my future wife. I intended saying so, but Mr. Cripps got ahead of me.
“You get off my grounds,” he blurted, waving his fist. “You get out of 'ere now or I'll 'ave you put off. Do you 'ear?”
I should have answered him as he deserved to be answered, but Frances would not let me.
“Don't, Kent,” she whispered. “Don't quarrel with him, please. He is going, Mr. Cripps. We are going—now.”
Mrs. Cripps fairly shrieked. “WE are going?” she repeated. “Do you mean you are going with him?”
Hephzy joined in, but in a quite different tone.
“You are goin'?” she said, joyfully. “Oh, Frances, are you comin' with us?”