I want you to. Your father's gone to bed, and they're all
quiet over there--all worn out. Just come for a minute."
He yielded, and when they were in the house she repeated herself with
real feeling: "'All worn out!' Well, if anybody is, YOU are, Bibbs!
And I don't wonder; you've done every bit of the work of it. You
mustn't get down sick again. I'm going to make you take a little
brandy."
He let her have her own way, following her into the dining-room, and
was grateful when she brought him a tiny glass filled from one of the
decanters on the sideboard. Roscoe gloomily poured for himself a much
heavier libation in a larger glass; and the two men sat, while Sibyl
leaned against the sideboard, reviewing the episodes of the day and
recalling the names of the donors of flowers and wreaths. She pressed
Bibbs to remain longer when he rose to go, and then, as he persisted,
she went with him to the front door. He opened it, and she said:
"Bibbs, you were coming out of the Vertreeses' house when we met you.
How did you happen to be there?"
"I had only been to the door," he said. "Good night, Sibyl."
"Wait," she insisted. "We saw you coming out.
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