"Wa-a-ait! Please! It is something she wishes you to know.—Am I right?" This with that characteristic smile so wholly muscular.
"Right as the mail!" assured Clare, ironically again, and borrowing an expression learned from Hull.
"Ah! Thank you!—Susan, Miss Crosby is not Miss Crosby at all. She is married.—I'm so glad your husband has found you, my dear."
"Found? You—you don't mean——" There was a frightened look in Sue's eyes.
Her mother misunderstood the look. "Yes, lucky Mr. Farvel," she said, beaming. Then with precision, since Sue seemed not to comprehend, "Mrs.—Alan—Farvel."
"I—see."
"Didn't I practically guess that Mr. Farvel was married?"
"Married,"—it was like an echo.
"And I was right!"
"Yes, mother,—yes—you're—you're always right."