"You are the most brazen—"
"Hush. Do be careful. Suppose my uncle were to hear you? If you've finished won't you go?"
"Go? I shall not go till I have said my say. I shall send the vicar to you about Robin—such conduct is so—so infamous that I can't—I can't—I can't—"
"I'm sorry if it has distressed you."
"Distressed me? You are the most—"
"Really I think we've done, haven't we?" said Priscilla hurriedly, dreadfully afraid lest Fritzing should come in and hear her being called names.
"To think that you dared—to think that my—my noble boy—"
"He wasn't very noble. Mothers don't ever really know their sons, I think."
"Shameless girl!" cried Mrs. Morrison, so loud, so completely beside herself, that Priscilla hastily rang her bell, certain that Fritzing must hear and would plunge in to her rescue; and of all things she had learned to dread Fritzing's plunging to her rescue. "Open the door for this lady," she said to Annalise, who appeared with a marvellous promptitude; and as Mrs. Morrison still stood her ground and refused to see either Annalise or the door Priscilla ended the interview by walking out herself, with great dignity, into the bathroom.