“Lily, come down!” Pa’s voice thundered from below.
Lily was out of bed in a bound. She could hardly tie her skirt-strings for trembling. Why was Pa in such a rage?
The moment Lily entered her parents’ room, she realized what it was. Pa was holding a letter in his hand and scowling at her.
“These are nice stories I hear!” he cried. “You let men kiss you? You’ve got a love affair? Come, Lily, is this true?”
“It’s Jimmy’s doing,” thought Lily. “The mean cur! He’s given me away!”
Pa went on hotly:
“And you’re going to marry, are you? To marry Trampy? Here, read that!”
Lily felt hopeless. She took the letter, but did not attempt to read it. White with fear, could she have sprung through the window and fled, she would have done so.
“Well,” Pa went on apace, growing more and more excited, “is all this true? All that they tell me: about your receiving letters, post-cards, jewelry ... and that ring! I’ve seen it! You’re going to marry Trampy, are you? Oh, the man who writes to me knows all about it, saw you with him at the corner of Oxford Street and Newman Street. Is that true, miss? What did you have to tell him, pray? Speak out!”