“NOW WHAT COULD they want,” said old Mrs. Pease, who stood at the front window parting the draperies. “Polly,” warned Miss Adele. Everyone turned, and those seated stood up, as two equally fat women and a man walked past Miss Adele into the parlor. “I said this had to be the right spot, because it looks like the very house to hold a big funeral,” said the old fat woman. “Where’s Wanda Fay? I don’t see her.”
