“I assure you, on my honor, he has not the least notion!” I declared, emphatically.
“Then—” she began, but words seemed to fail her. “Good-night,” she said, dramatically, but with unmistakable emphasis.
She rose and stepped towards the door with the air of a tragedy queen.
A thought, too horrible to be true, rushed into my heated brain.
“Stop, one moment!” I implored her. “Do you mean to say that—that he is really your uncle?”
Her look of indignant consternation answered the question.
I sank into my chair, and, seeing me in this plight, she paused to complete my downfall.
