He gave Annie a look which she did not clearly understand, although she pronounced him a nasty old man as she hustled on her hat and jacket.
When Annie reached home she found Willy Steen sitting with her mother and sister at the dining-room table. This was the first day that Annie had gone to the office since Wanning’s death, and her family awaited her return with suspense.
“Hello yourself,” Annie called as she came in and threw her handbag into an empty armchair.
“You’re off early, Annie,” said her mother gravely. “Has the will been read?”
“I guess so. Yes, I know it has. Miss Wilson got it out of the safe for them. The son came in. He’s a pill.”
“Was nothing said to you, daughter?”
“Yes, a lot. Please give me some tea, mother.” Annie felt that her swagger was failing.
“Don’t tantalize us, Ann,” her sister broke in. “Didn’t you get anything?”
“I got the mit, all right. And some back talk from the old man that I’m awful sore about.”
Annie dashed away the tears and gulped her tea.