“I’m not.” Nora coughed defensively. “I feel fine.”
“Say ah-h-h-h-h.”
Nora stood under the center light, lifted her winter-rouged face, said the word.
“Look at this, Henry. She’s getting a very red throat.”
“It’s not a bit sore,” Nora asserted urgently.
Mrs. Conner suddenly sat down. “That’s about the last straw!”
“Oh, Mother. Just because I’ve got a little red in the throat.”
“It could be measles,” Mrs. Conner went on aggravatedly. “They’re going around.”
“I haven’t been exposed.”
“How do you know? Henry, I just can’t take her over to Ruth’s if she’s catching a cold.