That was the last, final straw--having that child, trailing at her heels.
There was one table.

It had pink carnations and pink plates with little blue tea-napkins for sails.
"Shall we sit here ?" She put her hand wearily on the back of a white wicker chair.
"We may as well.

Why not ?" said she.
Hennie squeezed past her and wriggled on to a stool at the end.

He felt awfully out of it.

She didn't even take her gloves off.