"You've got all the money between you—you, and Paul, and Grace," persisted Stephen, angrily.
"You know it's a wicked falsehood, Stephen!" said Grace, firing up like a kitten at her step-brother's insulting words. "You're a bad man!"
"Hoity-toity! I'm a bad man, am I, little vixen?" said Stephen, glowering at her.
"Yes, you are!"
"Hush, Grace! Little girls should not talk too much!" said her mother, fearing that Stephen might become dangerously incensed and proceed to violence.
Though he was affected by drink, she felt that she could not offer any adequate resistance in such a case.
"If Paul would only come home!" she said to herself. He was only a boy; still with him in the house she would feel comparatively safe.
"Come, old lady," said Stephen, "I see you want to get rid of me. Give me some money, and I will begone."
"I have no money for you, Stephen."
"Didn't Paul bring home some money to-night?"