 I told him he couldn't. Oh, you did, did you? Well, just what right have you got to tell anybody whether they can see me or not, young woman? You march your boots out to wherever he is and tell him to get right here. My dear. All right, all right. Dad, come on in. Well, how do, Ida? Ain't you got nothing better to do, Henry Foster, than come out here? No, no, I ain't. Not a thing. Well, say, I declare, Ida...