Chapter Twenty-OneThe Bare Facts
Julia returned to say that the lady from the other house was waiting outside.
“That must be Mrs. Barrelforth,” said Sybil. “Shall I ask her in?”
“Judas, no!” said Squareless. “Take her away.”
Sybil stood up. “Good-by, then,” she said. “Sure you’re all right?”
“Hell, yes.”
“Still don’t want a doctor?”
“Hell, no.”
Sybil turned toward the door, then paused. “You know,” she said, “you’re rude and ungrateful and pigheaded. Why do I like you so much?”
“Because I play bridge,” growled Squareless. “Trot along.”
She followed Julia into the hall, realizing, in the mundane daylight, that she was still in pajamas, her feet in muddy pink mules.
Mrs. Barrelforth, on the other hand, sat at the wheel of Tim’s car looking as fresh and robust as ever in her sensib
