The color mounted. "No," steadily.
"Nor Miss Chesley?"
"Of course not."
"Not of course. You do care. You'd hate it if you thought they'd criticize. And you'd cry after you went to bed."
She felt that such clairvoyance was uncanny. "I wouldn't cry."
"Well, you'd feel like it."
"Please don't talk about me in that way. It really doesn't make any difference how I feel, does it? And your lunch is getting cold."
"What made you bring it? Why didn't you let Mrs. Bower or Beulah?"
"Mrs. Bower is lying down, and Beulah has been ironing all the morning."
"The next time call me, and I'll wait upon myself."