"No, Uncle, you're not to. You must come in. Do be nice. Come along for our sake. You're fond of us, aren't you? You love all Addie's adopted children, Uncle, don't you?"
"Yes, kiddie, I'm fond of you all, though I've lost Addie altogether through you."
"No, Uncle, not altogether."
"Well, what's the use of sharing him with the pack of you?"
"But you can afford to share him a little bit. Tell me: you are fond of us?"
"Of course I am, you're a dear, jolly lot. But Mathilde...."
"What about Mathilde, Uncle?"
He bent over her and bit each word separately into her ear:
"I—can't—stand—her.... I hate her as I have never hated anybody."
"But, Uncle, that's overdoing it," said Gerdy, lapsing into reasonableness.