Lulu rose and took Monona by the hand, the child hanging back and
shaking her straight hair in an unconvincing negative.

As they crossed the room, Dwight Herbert Deacon, strolling about and
snapping his fingers, halted and cried out sharply:

"Lulu. One moment!"

He approached her. A finger was extended, his lips were parted, on his
forehead was a frown.

"You _picked_ the flower on the plant?" he asked incredulously.

Lulu made no reply. But the child Monona felt herself lifted and borne
to the stairway and the door was shut with violence. On the dark
stairway Lulu's arms closed about her in an embrace which left her
breathless and squeaking. And yet Lulu was not really fond of the child
Monona, either. This was a discharge of emotion akin, say, to slamming
the door.




II


MAY

Lulu was dusting the parlour. The parlour was rarely used, but every
morning it was dusted. By Lulu.