“Indeed!” George snorted. “May I ask what you think I ought to have done?”
“Nothing.”
“‘Nothing?’” George echoed, mocking bitterly “I suppose you think I mean to let my mother’s good name—”
“Your mother’s good name!” Amberson cut him off impatiently. “Nobody has a good name in a bad mouth. Nobody has a good name in a silly mouth, either. Well, your mother’s name was in some silly mouths, and all you’ve done was to go and have a scene with the worst old woman gossip in the town—a scene that’s going to make her into a partisan against your mother, whereas she was a mere prattler before. Don’t you suppose she’ll be all over town with this to-morrow? To-morrow? Why, she’ll have her telephone going to-night as long as any of her friends are up! People that never heard anything about this are going to hear it all now, with embellishments. And she’ll see to it that everybody who’s hinted anything about poor Isabel will know that you’re on the warpath; and that will put them on the defensive and make them vicious. The story will grow as it spreads and—”
George unfolded his arms to strike his right fist into his left palm. “But do you suppose I’m going to tolerate such things?” he shouted. “What do you suppose I’ll be doing?”
“Nothing helpful.”
“Oh, you think so, do you?”
“You can do absolutely nothing,” said Amberson. “Nothing of any use. The more you do the more harm you’ll do.”
“You’ll see! I’m going to stop this thing if I have to force my way into every house on National Avenue and Amberson Boulevard!”
His uncle laughed rather sourly, but made no other comment.