"Oh, they can go for all I care. It makes no odds to me. If my company isn't good enough for them I'm sure I don't want to keep 'em. Besides, if we're left alone it'll give you a chance to say some of those pretty things which are nearly dropping off the tip of your tongue. I say, Frankie, don't you think I'm looking simply sweet?"
What "Frankie" answered the chronicles do not state.
IV
"Frank, is this an intentional outrage of which you have been guilty? Or is it an insolent practical joke which you have planned to play at the expense of your mother's friends?"
For the first time in his life Frank Pickard saw his mother really angry. Of the reality of her anger, as he confronted her in her boudoir, to which he had ascended in obedience to an urgent summons, there could be no doubt. He was conscious that her anger was justified. He was ready enough to admit it.
"It is neither, mother. Only--I don't understand."
"What don't you understand?"
"How the Miss Lorraine I saw yesterday has become transformed into the Miss Lorraine you saw just now."
"My dear Frank, I don't wish to hurt your feelings--although you have shown yourself indifferent as to mine--"
"Mother!"