"What are you doing?"
Anton's voice startled her; she gave a little scream; the book slipped from her hands.
"Must you go prying about?" asked Anton, roughly.
"Well, can't I look at a book?" stammered Aunt Stefanie. "I wasn't doing anything improper!" she said, defending herself.
He picked up the album and shoved it back violently behind the Latin volumes. Then, becoming indifferent, he grinned, with eyes like slits:
"And what have you seen?"
"Nothing, nothing," stammered Stefanie. "You just came in ... and startled me so. I saw nothing, nothing.... Are you ready? Shall we go?"
Buttoned up in his great-coat, he followed her tripping little steps; he grinned at her scornfully: how much she had missed! And, if she had seen anything, how she must have been shocked!
"He is the devil!" she thought, in her fright. "He is the devil! If it wasn't for that sinful money, which it would be such a pity for him not to leave to Ina, I should drop him altogether, I should never wish to see him again. For he is not all the thing...."