“There’s something going on,” she insisted, “and I want to know what it is.”
I knew I was licked. “I’ve been trading.”
“Trading! After all I’ve said about Bill?”
“But this is different.”
“Trading is trading,” she said flatly.
Bill came in the front door, but he must have heard his mother say “trading", for he ducked out again. I yelled for him to come back.
“I want both of you to sit down and listen to me,” I said.
“You can ask questions and offer suggestions and give me hell after I’m through.”
So we sat down, all three of us, and had a family pow-wow.
It took quite a bit to make Helen believe what I had to tell, but I pointed out the dot in the desk and showed them the triangular glasses and the pair of glasses that had been refitted with the pink lenses and sent back to me. By that time, she was ready to admit there was something going on. Even so, she was fairly well burned up at me for marking up the floor around the desk legs.