“Mercy me! More plots!” Gloria was cynical in her despair. “Certainly you can talk to me. I need sympathy. Have you any to spare?”
But Mary was not in Gloria’s mood. Quietly she led her into her own room—a rare thing for Mary to do.
“You know, of course,” she began, “Jack is worse?”
“Just the expected reaction, I thought. Isn’t it?”
“I hope that is all. And—is—her stepmother coming?” It seemed actually difficult for Mary to ask the question.
“I believe so. That is, if I can’t flag her away,” said Gloria, a little bitterly.
“It is a queer situation,” Mary hesitated. Then, “But I can understand, perhaps better—than the others,” she faltered.
“Why don’t you meet her, Mary? I’m sure she would listen to reason from you,” blurted out Gloria.
“I!” the word ran the entire scale of surprise. “Why, I wouldn’t want to meet Mrs. Corday under any circumstances.”
“Is she an ogre? May I have my precious head bitten off? Why all this alarm?”