"Oh, boloney. Don't make a molehill out of a mountain."
"But, look, Lillian, it's easy for you to joke about it."
"Come on, we'll make coffee." Such moments were not to Lillian's taste. She hated to see hopes and fears suddenly plucked from their rightful seclusion and made to stand naked and shivering on display. She had always hated those intimate moments and of late her hatred had increased, for they reminded her now of the night when she had sent Hubert home to ask Helen for release. People were fools. She went to the kitchen and made the percolator ready. Anna would be herself again if she were left alone for a while.
Clifford came back with sandwiches and a cake. "Was it all right at the store?" Lillian asked him. "Would he let you charge it to me?"
"Sure."
"I was thinking I ought to have called him up and told him it was O.K."
"No, it was all right."
The Sullivans and Lillian sat down to their little repast. Lillian was in a friendly and merry humor. It was her way of promising Anna that everything would be all right. Anna was slightly preoccupied and disturbed. Lillian wished she had been able to pat her affectionately and say, "Wild horses couldn't drag your secret from me." That might have been pretty and certainly reassuring, but Lillian knew that she wouldn't have been able to say it without laughing, and that would probably have added to Anna's distress and doubt.
The Sullivans had their pleasant little surprise game
