Ethel looked understandingly at him: "IS she?"
"In a shabby sort of way. Didn't you think so?"
Ethel glared coldly at him.
"I never notice the lower orders. You apparently do."
"Oh, yes—often. They're very interesting—at times." He strained to get a last glimpse of the intruder:
"Do you know, she's the strangest little apparition—"
"She's only a few yards away if you care to follow her!"
Her tone brought Brent up sharply. He turned away from the window and found Ethel—arms folded, eyes flashing—waiting for him. Something in her manner alarmed him. He had gone too far.
"Why, Ethel,"—he said, as he came toward her.
"Suppose my mother had walked in here—or Alaric—instead of that creature? Never do such a thing again."