"Hurry up," I said. "Morry is waiting."
She looked at me as if I'd just crawled out from the wainscoating.
"I've just talked to the kid," she said. "He thinks I'm poison. What
kind of a yarn have you been feeding him?"
"Me? Why, honey, that hurts. Do you think your Uncle Patrick would
breathe an unkind word about you?"
"Well, it's mighty strange," she said. "He won't even tell me what's
biting him."
"I wouldn't pay any attention to him," I said. "Perhaps it's all for
the best."
"Hmmm," she said, eyeing me shrewdly.
"Come on now, be a good kid and get things rolling. A lot depends on
this you know."