"You're not a woman at all! You're a young girl, and a very silly one,—to have secret dealings with a common-looking man. Now, as your temporary guardian, I insist you tell me all about it"
"'Temporary guardian' is good! Who appointed you?"
"I'm that by reason of your being a guest in my house, and too in view of the fact that you have, apparently, nobody to look after you. Your father has mysteriously disappeared. You've had no word from him since you've been here! So far as I know, you have no other relatives, and so, as your nearest of kin, I propose to look after you,—if you will let me. Don't be foolish, Azalea, dear," Farnsworth's voice took on a tender tone, "don't be antagonistic. I want to help you, not annoy you. Why not look on me as a friend, and let me know all you're about? There can be no reason why I shouldn't."
"You might not approve," and Azalea looked at him uncertainly.
"Why? Are you up to anything wrong?"
"No," but she spoke hesitatingly, "not wrong, Cousin, but—all the same, you might not approve."
"Tell me, and let me see. If it isn't wrong, I'll promise not to censure you, even if I don't entirely approve."
Azalea's attention was attracted by the man who had lately left her. He stood behind Farnsworth and made gestures that informed Azalea she was not to let his presence be known. So she continued to talk to Bill, but also kept the other man in view.
His procedure was somewhat strange. He pretended to be holding a baby, cuddling an imaginary child in his arms. Then he tossed the non-existent little one up in the air, and pretended to catch it again.
Then he nodded to Azalea. She shook her head negatively and very vigorously.