“I think the sooner Joan has a cup of tea the better,” said Leo.
“I am not going to touch anything till I know the truth about father.”
Leonard was silent for a few seconds, and he brought a cup to her side.
“Now, Joan, a little toast, and a scrap of chicken?” he asked kindly.
Joan was fighting against an overwhelming grasp of sickness and exhaustion. She sat bolt upright still, but her lips were the color of the white table-cloth.
“No,” she said—“nothing yet. I will hear about father first.”
“Joan, be reasonable,” urged Leo. “You are fit for nothing till you have taken some food. I promise to tell you presently; and you shall see him so soon as Mr. Forest consents.”
“You are to tell me now,” Joan retorted imperiously. “I don’t want to be reasonable. I only want to know about father.”
“Just a little tea first,” pleaded Nessie.
“No!”