She clapped her hands over her ears.
"That is childish!" he said scornfully. "You can hear me! Throughout the whole north your father is called the slave-driver!"
Colina faced him still and white. This was the very incandescence of anger. "Go!" she said. "I'm done with you!"
"One thing more," he said doggedly. "The price of wheat. I shouldn't have said anything about justice. Putting that aside, it will be good business for you to pay the farmers their price. Otherwise you'll have red rebellion on your hands!"
As Ambrose made for the door he met Gordon Strange coming in.
"Wait!" Colina commanded. "I want you to hear this."
It was impossible to tell from her set face what she meant to do,
Ambrose waited, hoping against hope.
"You want to know about the wheat?" said Colina.
"First, your father," said Strange, anxious and compassionate.
"He is not dangerously ill," said Colina.