Billy and Louise arrived. Billy was in a bad humor and Louise hadn't brought dinner things.
"I forgot them," she explained. "Billy's got yelling at me about something and I forgot. Can't we go out for dinner?"
"No," said Lillian. "I told you that Anna was here sick. We can't leave her alone."
"What's the matter with her?" Billy asked.
"Grippe, I told you."
"If I believe that, you'll tell me another."
"I don't care whether you believe it or not. She has grippe."
Even Billy knew when not to fool with Lillian. He saw that she was peevish about something. Hell, what did she have to be sore about? If she said one more thing he didn't like, he'd take Louise and they'd go home.
"You have your things on, Lou. Go to the store, will you?" Lillian asked.
"Oh, I'm tired, Lillian. Honest I am. Can't you phone?"
"It's too late. If I phoned now, we'd never get the stuff."
"I'll go," said Hubert.
"All right. Get three and a half pounds of sirloin steak and a can of corn—better get two cans and a cake of some kind and butter, and don't forget bread."
"All right."
Hubert went out and Billy sat down in the living-room to read his paper. Louise stood in the kitchen talking while Lillian peeled the potatoes.
