VII
INTERLUDE
Mrs. Frobisher touched the control button that depolarized the window in the breakfast room, letting the morning sun stream in. Then she said, in a low voice, "Larry, come here."
Larry Frobisher looked up from his morning coffee. "What is it, hon?"
"The Stanton boys. Come look."
Frobisher sighed. "Who are the Stanton boys, and why should I come look?" But he got up and came over to the window.
"See—over there on the walkway toward the play area," she said.
"I see three girls and a boy pushing a wheeled contraption," Frobisher said. "Or do you mean that the Stanford boys are dressed up as girls?"
"Stanton," she corrected him. "They just moved into the apartment on the first floor."
"Who? The three girls?"