His aunt, momentarily aghast, had just started to speak again, when the maid stepped inside the door to announce the arrival of Miss Ginger Horton—an extremely fat lady, who entered the room then, wearing an immense trapeze sunsuit and carrying her Pekinese.
“Guy!” she cried, extending her hand, as he, rising, came forward. “How too good to see you!
“Say hello to Guy, my Bitsy!” she shrieked gaily to the dog, pointing him at Guy and the others. “Say hello to everybody! There’s Agnes and Esther, see them, Bitsy?”
The dog yapped crossly instead, and ran at the nose.
“Is Bitsy-witsy sicky?” cooed Miss Horton, pouting now as she allowed Guy to slowly escort her towards a chair near the others, he maneuvering her across the room like a gigantic river scow. “Hmm? Is my Bitsy sicky-wicky?”
“Nothing too serious, I hope,” said Grand with a solicitous frown.
“Just nerves I expect,” said Miss Horton, haughty now, and fairly snapping. “The weather is just so ... really abominable, and then all the nasty little people about.... Now here’s your Agnes and Esther, Bitsy.”
“How very nice to see you, my dear,” said the two elderly women, each laying thin fingers on her enormous hand. “What an adorable little sunsuit! It was kind of you to bring your Bitsy—wasn’t it, Guy?”
“It was extremely kind,” said Guy, beaming as he retreated to his own great chair near the window.
** ***