“Because—I know it isn’t that.... Oh, Gilbert, do try to—win her affection!”
“I don’t see why I should!” he answered. “Upon my word I don’t see why I should humble myself—”
“She’s my mother, Gilbert, and I love her.”
“Yes, of course, my sweet girl! But, after all, if you’re going to marry me, I come first, don’t I? If you really love me—” She began to cry.
“You know I do! Only—you can’t imagine how dear and wonderful Mother’s always been.”
He said he could have a talk with her and he did. It was not a pleasant talk. This benevolent matronly creature, whom he had always taken for granted as a part of Claudine’s background, had suddenly come alive as a woman, as a difficult and unmanageable feminine creature.
She said:
“I should prefer not to discuss this matter with you, Mr. Vincelle.”
“But why?” he protested. “If you have any objection to me, isn’t it only fair to tell me what it is? To let me defend myself?”
She shook her head.