"My name is Curtis. Mrs. Dale, I—I know about your little boy."
"Is that so?" Lily said, with the simper proper when speaking to strangers.
"I mean," Eleanor said, "I know about—" her lips were so dry she stopped to moisten them—"about Mr. Curtis and you."
"I ain't acquainted with your son."
Eleanor caught her breath, but went on, "I haven't come to reproach you."
Lily tossed her head. "Reproach? Me? Well, I must say, I don't see no cause why you should! I don't know no Mr. Curtis!" She was alertly on guard for Maurice; "I guess you've mixed me up with some other lady."
"Please!" Eleanor said; "I know. He told me—about Jacky."
Instantly Lily's desire to defend Maurice was tempered by impatience with him; the idea of him letting on to his mother! Then, noticing her boy, who was silently observing the caller from the doorway, she said:
"Jacky! Go right out of this room."
"Won't," said Jacky. "She gimme the horn," he remarked.