Jack snuffled tearfully: "My back hurts! Can't some o' you do something for it?"
Rosie turned stiffly to George. "What I called you up here for was to ask you what's good for a sunburnt back."
"Excuse me," murmured George meekly. "Let's see now: We ought to put on some oil or grease, then some powder or flour."
"Will lard do?" Rosie still spoke coldly.
"Yes, but vaseline would be better. There's a bottle of vaseline on my bureau. Do you want to get it, Rosie?"
Rosie hurried off and returned just in time to hear George say: "Oh, you can go in again in two or three days."
Rosie blazed on him furiously. "Jarge Riley, what are you telling Jackie?"
"I?" He spoke with an assumption of innocence and that look of guilelessness which Rosie was fast learning to associate with male deceit. "I was just telling him it would take a couple o' days for his back to peel. Then he'll be all right again."
Rosie looked at him in scorn, but made no comment. She resolved one thing: George Riley should have no more moments alone with Jack. When the time came, she made him go downstairs for the flour-shaker, then curtly dismissed him.
"I guess you can go now, Jarge. Jackie wants to go to sleep. Now, Jackie dear, just lie on your stummick and you'll be asleep in two minutes."