“Georgie, did you say what he says you did?”
“Which one?”
“Did you tell him to—to—Did you say, ‘Go to hell?’”
Georgie looked worried for a moment longer; then he brightened. “Listen here, mamma; grandpa wouldn’t wipe his shoe on that ole story-teller, would he?”
“Georgie, you mustn’t—”
“I mean: none of the Ambersons wouldn’t have anything to do with him, would they? He doesn’t even know you, does he, mamma?”
“That hasn’t anything to do with it.”
“Yes, it has! I mean: none of the Amberson family go to see him, and they never have him come in their house; they wouldn’t ask him to, and they prob’ly wouldn’t even let him.”
“That isn’t what we’re talking about.”
“I bet,” said Georgie emphatically, “I bet if he wanted to see any of ’em, he’d haf to go around to the side door!”