“That’s very thoughtful of you, I’m sure!” “I thought so myself,” she replied, and took a step toward the dining-room door. He flung out his arm arrestingly. “Just a moment, please!” “Oh, hours--if you want them!” “I overheard some of your speeches. To whom were you speaking--tell me the truth!” “Don’t be so fierce about it! And do take off your hat! You look so funny with your hat stuck on the back of your head that way!” “Never mind my hat! It will be much better for you not to trifle with me. Who was on the other end of that telephone?” “What if I don’t tell you?” she demanded. “I want an answer to my question! You told me one falsehood today; I don’t want to hear another!” “Well, you won’t! I was talking to Mr. Frederick V. Thomas!” “I thought as much. Now I’ve told you as plainly as I know how that you’ve got to drop that fellow. He’s a scoundrel to force his attentions on you. I haven’t wanted to bring matters to an issue with you about him. I’ve been patient with you--let him come to the house and go about with you. But you’ve not played fair with me. When I told you I didn’t like his coming to the house so much you began meeting him when you thought I wouldn’t know it--that’s a fact, isn’t it?” “Yes, Dada--only a few times, though.” “May I ask what you mean by that? That a girl brought up as you have been, with every advantage and indulgence, should be so basely ungrateful as to meet a man I disapprove of--meet him in ways that show you know you’re doing a wrong thing--is beyond my understanding. It’s contemptible; it’s close upon the unpardonable!” “Then why don’t you act decently about it?” She lifted her head and met his gaze unwaveringly. “If you didn’t hear what I said I’ll tell you! I told him I love him; I’ve promised to marry him.” “Well, you won’t marry him!” he exclaimed, his voice quavering in his effort to restrain his anger. “A man who’s left a wife somewhere and plays upon the sympathy of a credulous young girl like you is a contemptible hound!” “All right, then! He’s a contemptible hound!” Her insolence, her refusal to cower before him, increased his anger. His time-tried formula for meeting emergencies by superior strategy--the method that worked so well with his son--was of no use to him here. He had lost a point in letting her see that for once in his life his temper had got the better of him. He had been too tolerant of her faults; the bills for his indulgence were coming in now--a large sheaf of them. She must be handled with care--with very great caution, indeed; thus far in his life he had got what he wanted, and it was not for a girl whom he saw only as a spoiled child to circumvent him.