Volna turned swiftly to me as if seeking a contradiction.
“Where is my mother, Mr. Anstruther?”
Katinka’s large eyes flashed angrily. “Do you wish to insult me, Volna, by appealing from me to this new English friend of yours?”
Volna ignored her save for a gesture. “Mr. Anstruther?”
“I stayed at your mother’s request to assure you that she does not think it serious.”
“My dear, dearest mother!” A piteous cry of sorrow and pity; and then a change to indignant reproach. “This is your doing, Katinka, yours and Paul’s and uncle’s; with your miserable plots and schemings and intrigues! And having done the mischief, you were such a coward as to leave her to face the consequences alone. Shame on you! If I had no other cause to hate your conspiracy, your cowardice in this would make me do it.”
“Don’t be theatrical, Volna.”
“If it comforts you to cover your cowardice with a sneer, do so. I do not envy you the consolation. I should have thought even you would be ashamed.”
“I shall not remain to be insulted before a stranger.”
“When the truth bites like an insult, I can understand how it hurts to hear it. I shall go to my mother, of course. You will help me find her, won’t you, Mr. Anstruther?”