"For shame! To lose your temper like that!" he scolded. "And to grumble! And mope! And squabble! And upset yourself! And kick up a hullabaloo! Do you call that a pleasant way of dining?"
She buried her face on his breast, in his arms. He stroked her hair:
"Come, Mummy, be sensible, now. It's nothing."
"Yes, but Papa mustn't crab Aunt Adolphine."
"And you mustn't crab Papa. What did Papa say, after all?"
"That Aunt Adolphine's boys...."
"Were rough. Do you think they're girls, then?"
"No."
"Well, then ... What else?"
"I don't approve of your going out with boys so much older than yourself."