“They are my friends,” said Bonnie May. “They have known me always. And really, you know, we weren’t doing anything wrong!”
Clifton had assisted her to the floor; and now, after an appealing step in Mrs. Baron’s direction, and the swift conclusion that nothing she could do would save the situation, she broke into tears and staggered from the room.
“Bonnie May!” called Clifton, with overflowing solace in his tone. He ran after Bonnie May. The other actor, casting brass rings and red bandanna to the floor, followed.
“Emily Boone!” The voice was Mrs. Harrod’s. “I think you might blame us, if it’s all so terrible. We encouraged her. We enjoyed it.”
Mrs. Baron now turned toward the assembled group. She seemed dazed. “I—I didn’t know you were here!” she said, her voice trembling weakly. And then—“I don’t care! What would any woman do, coming home and finding strangers and—and such a scene in her house?”
“We invited them in, mother,” confessed Baron weakly.
“Yes,” echoed Flora, “they were old companions of Bonnie May’s, and we thought it would be nice to invite them in!”
“And I suppose you invited—him in, too?” retaliated Mrs. Baron, indicating Addis by a scornful, slight movement of her head.
The effect of this upon Flora was most distressing. Could her mother so far forget herself as to reveal family differences in the presence of Mrs. Harrod and the McKelvey girls? Her wounded eyes fairly begged for mercy.
Addis promptly came to her relief.