But Edith's shaking was not so violent as Sibyl's, nor was her face so white. At sight of them and of their embrace, all possible consequences became nothing to Sibyl. She courtesied, holding up her skirts and contorting her lips to the semblance of a smile.
“Sit just as you were—both of you!” she said. And then to Edith: “Did you tell my husband I had been telephoning to Lamhorn?”
“You march out of here!” said Edith, fiercely. “March straight out of here!”
Sibyl leveled a forefinger at Lamhorn.
“Did you tell her I'd been telephoning you I wanted you to come?”
“Oh, good God!” Lamhorn said. “Hush!”
“You knew she'd tell my husband, DIDN'T you?” she cried. “You knew that!”
“HUSH!” he begged, panic-stricken.
“That was a MANLY thing to do! Oh, it was like a gentleman! You wouldn't come—you wouldn't even come for five minutes to hear what I had to say! You were TIRED of what I had to say! You'd heard it all a thousand times before, and you wouldn't come! No! No! NO!” she stormed. “You wouldn't even come for five minutes, but you could tell that little cat! And SHE told my husband! You're a MAN!”
Edith saw in a flash that the consequences of battle would be ruinous to Sibyl, and the furious girl needed no further temptation to give way to her feelings. “Get out of this house!” she shrieked. “This is my father's house. Don't you dare speak to Robert like that!”