"Oh, she needs you, does she?"—resentfully. "And I suppose your own mother doesn't need you."
"You'll be with Wallace."
"So!" And with a taunting smile, "Perhaps Mr. Farvel also needs you."
"No." But now a curious look came into Sue's eyes—a look of comprehension. Jealousy! It was patent to her, as it had never been before. Her mother was jealous of Farvel; fearful that even at so late a date happiness might come to the middle-aged woman who was her daughter. "No," she said again. "He doesn't need me."
"_In_deed!"
"No—I need him."
Mrs. Milo was appalled. "A-a-a-ah! So that's it! You need him!
Now, we're coming to the truth!"
"Yes—the truth."
"That's why you couldn't rest till you'd followed this woman!" Mrs. Milo pointed a trembling hand toward the double door. "You were sure it was some love-affair. And you were jealous!"
Sue laughed. "Jealous," she repeated, bitterly.