“Will you tell me what you mean by this conduct?” sneered Georgia.
“Mamma—” commenced Zuleime but her voice broke down.
“Zuleime! come get up and come home!”
“Oh, no, no, no! Not home! Never home again!”
“Once more, what am I to think of this frantic behaviour.”
“Mamma!”
“Don’t call me mamma, if you please! It may not be pleasant or politic, to acknowledge that tender relationship. But explain yourself, lest I bring you to those who will demand the explanation with less forbearance!”
“Mercy! mercy! I will tell you anything! everything! Only do not kill my father with the story!”
“Speak, then!”
“Lady—”