"You've frightened us half to death. Mother's sick over it."
"You can have Jim in the house, or me, but not both of us."
She would give him no more satisfaction, and he was turning away angry at her obstinacy, when Mason came up to greet her.
"Good morning."
"Good morning."
Al quickly divined that here was the man. It was written in the way he looked at her, and in Georgia's sudden sidelong glance at Al to see if he saw.
"I'd like a word with you," said the brother to the lover, tapping him on the shoulder with studied rudeness, "now."
Stevens didn't understand the situation, but he was properly resentful, and lowered at the stranger. In these subtle days of commerce, finger-tips on collar bones may convey all that was once meant by a glove in the face.
"My brother, Mr. Stevens," she explained. They did not shake hands. Mason was not quite sure from the young fellow's expression just what might happen, but he was sure it had better not happen right there. "Let's get out of the office—and you can have as many words as you want," said he. Georgia arose to go with them.
"No, don't you come," said Stevens.