John March, meditating on this very speaker with growing anger, saw him approach. Garnet entered, beaming.
"Howdy, John, my son; I couldn't let you and Sister March——"
March had stepped before his mother: He spoke in a deep murmur.
"I'm not your son, sir. My mother's not your sister."
"Why, what in thun—why, John, I don't know whether to be angry or to laugh."
"Don't you dare to do either. Go back to that other man's——"
"Speak more softly for heaven's sake, Mr. March, and don't look so, or you'll do me a wrong that may cost us both our lives!"
"Cheap enough," said the youth, with a smile.
"You've made a ridiculous mistake, John. Before God I'm as innocent of any——"
"Before God, Major Garnet, you lie. If you deny it again I'll accuse you publicly. Go back and fondle the hand of that other man's wife; but don't ever speak to my mother again. If you do, I—I'll shoot you on sight."