They two made a
sorry meal, and afterwards went together into the sitting-room.
At eight o'clock they heard the front door open, and Yule's
footstep in the passage. Marian rose.
'Don't speak till to-morrow!' whispered her mother, catching at
the girl's arm. 'Let it be till to-morrow, Marian!'
'I must speak! We can't live in this terror.'
She reached the study just as her father was closing the door
behind him. Yule, seeing her enter, glared with bloodshot eyes;
shame and sullen anger were blended on his countenance.
'Will you tell me what is wrong, father?' Marian asked, in a
voice which betrayed her nervous suffering, yet indicated the
resolve with which she had come.
'I am not at all disposed to talk of the matter,' he replied,
with the awkward rotundity of phrase which distinguished him in
his worst humour. 'For information you had better go to Mrs Goby-
-or a person of some such name--in Holloway Road. I have nothing
more to do with it.'
'It was very unfortunate that the woman came and troubled you
about such things. But I can't see that mother was to blame; I
don't think you ought to be so angry with her.
Pages:
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521