"Why did you leave so suddenly?" she asked.
"No, it wasn't sudden. I'd had enough."
"Enough of what?"
"Everything."
"Even of Mary?"
"Chiefly of Mary."
She eyed him again sharply, wonderingly, searchingly, then again gave her odd little chuckle of a laugh.
"Why 'chiefly of Mary'?" she asked. "I think she's so nice. She'd make me such a good step-mother."
"Do you want one?" he asked.
"Yes, I do rather. Then my father would want to get rid of me. I should be in the way."