“You remember, surely, what I said yesterday? I hope it’s not necessary to repeat it.”
“Oh no, mamma; I remember it.” Laura paused, gave the carpet another prod, and went on, “I’m just writing to say I don’t believe a word of it.”
“Jack’s Darling” fell from Mrs. Pocklington’s paralysed grasp.
“Laura, how dare you? It is enough for you that I have decided what is to be done.”
“You see, mamma, when everybody is turning against him, I want to show him he has one friend, at least, who doesn’t believe these hateful stories.”
“I wonder you haven’t more self-respect. Considering what is said about him and Neaera Witt——”
“Oh, bother Mrs. Witt!” said Laura, actually smiling. “Really, mamma, it’s nonsense; he doesn’t care that for Neaera Witt!” And she tried to snap her fingers; but, happily for Mrs. Pocklington’s nerves, the attempt was a failure.
“I shall not argue with you, Laura. You will obey me, and there is an end of it.”
“You told me I was a woman yesterday. If I am, I ought to be allowed to judge for myself. Anyhow, you ought to hear what I have to say.”