the morning and have a load of dirty dishes staring you in the face.
It took forty-five minutes to tidy the kitchen and even then she had slighted the coffee pot and the broiler. At least a gallon of greasy water had spilled on the front of her dress. She didn't own an apron. Never could remember to buy one. It was an accordion-pleated dress and would cost at least two dollars and seventy-five cents to restore it to its original beauty. She turned her diamond and sapphire ring inward. Maybe that would remind her to get soap and aprons tomorrow.
She went back to the living-room. "Come on, Hubert, wake up. What the hell's the matter? Are you dead?"
Hubert grunted reassuringly.
Lillian tugged at the couch coaxingly. She wanted it to open and make a "surprisingly comfortable not to say luxurious bed."
"Wait a minute," Hubert said, "and I'll help you."
Lillian got it open and went to the hall closet for sheets and blankets. She made the bed and put two cretonne-covered pillows from the couch upon it. Anna was using the regular bed pillows.
"Now," she said, "for heaven's sake, climb in."
"My pajamas are in the bedroom," he objected.
Lillian went to get them. Anna was undressed and sitting stiffly in the pink upholstered chair. She wasn't crying and Lillian became alarmed.
"What's the matter?"
Anna rested reproachful eyes upon Lillian. "What's the matter!" she exclaimed.
