"What's the matter with Anna, anyway?" she whispered.
Lillian turned angry gray eyes upon Louise. "Grippe, I told you," she said. "How many more times must I tell you?"
"What are you so sore about?"
"Nothing, I'm just in a nasty humor, I suppose."
"Well, I guess we'd better go."
"Don't be foolish. I sent Hubert for three and a half pounds of steak. We can't eat it alone."
Louise went to the other room and sat down beside Billy. "She saw the way you came down the street with her car," she whispered.
"Go on. She's sore because you didn't get the things for dinner. Cripes, she thinks you're a servant girl."
Nothing was further from Lillian's mind than the thought that Louise was a servant girl. She was peeling the twelfth potato when Hubert returned.
"Get everything?" she asked.
"I hope so."
"I hope so, too. Go in and see if Anna wants anything, will you? I haven't had a chance to go in."
"Oh, I don't like to go in. She's always bawling. Get Louise to go in."
"Here, stick the steak under the light, will you? I'll go in."
Lillian went in. Anna was bawling. She was lying back against the pillows daubing at her eyes with one of Lillian's handkerchiefs.
"Oh, come on, Anna, turn off the weeps. Billy and
