As he spoke she turned her swift glance on him, drawing her forehead together until the eyebrows ran in a straight line.
"I have something to say to you," she said in a sharp, businesslike manner, watching the company with penetrating eagerness.
There was no mistaking the seriousness of her voice. Mr. Harris extinguished the oil lamp, covering the chafing dish clumsily with a discordant, disagreeable sound. Mrs. Cheever and Mrs. Enos Jackson swung about abruptly, Maude Lille rose a little from her seat, while the men imitated these movements of expectancy with a clumsy shuffling of the feet.
"Mr. Enos Jackson?"
"Yes, Mrs. Kildair."
"Kindly do as I ask you."
"Certainly."
She had spoken his name with a peremptory positiveness that was almost an accusation. He rose calmly, raising his eyebrows a little in surprise.
"Go to the door," she continued, shifting her glance from him to the others. "Are you there? Lock it. Bring me the key."
He executed the order without bungling, and returning stood before her, tendering the key.