“No; I must see father first.”
“Not till Mr. Forest has seen you both.”
Joan stood still, and almost stamped her foot, frowning at him, much as the dignified infant beside the bridge had frowned at the good-humored school-boy.
“I must go to father. I will go to him,” she said passionately. “No one has a right to keep me away.”
“You will not question Mr. Forest’s authority. He has forbidden it.”
“Then I shall speak to Mr. Forest! I am not going to be treated like a child.”
Joan reined up her head and marched before the other two into a shabby little sitting-room, where breakfast lay on the round table.
“Shall I pour out tea?” she asked stiffly.
“Nessie will do that. You must sit here,” Leonard said, drawing forward an easy-chair.
Joan rejected it immediately, and placed herself bolt upright on an ordinary cane-backed chair, trying to ignore certain hazy and floating sensations, akin to those experienced on board ship.