Marcia’s seemed about to thrust upon her. Marcia wasn’t covering her own job, she told herself. Why take another! She had given up an afternoon with Sarah because of this need of Marcia’s to-day. Marcia depended upon her mother’s shopping judgment more than she admitted. Thinking thus, and conscious of her tardiness (she had napped for ten minutes after lunch) Hannah Winter had met, face to face, with a crash, this strange, strained, rather haggard elderly woman in the mirror.

It was, then, ten minutes later than 2.07 when she finally came up to Marcia waiting, lips compressed, at the Michigan Avenue entrance, as planned.

“I bumped into that mirror — — ”

“Oh, Mom! I’m sorry.