"Because I like him. And because there's nobody else who wants to go about with me."
"There's Miss Heron."
"Dorsy isn't quite the same thing."
"Whether she is or isn't you've got to chuck it."
"Why?"
"Because Mamma doesn't like it and I don't like it. That ought to be enough." (Like Papa.)
"It isn't enough."
"Minky—why are you such a brute to little Mamma?"
"Because I can't help it … It's all very well for you—"
Mark turned in the path and looked at her; his tight, firm face tighter and firmer. She thought: "He doesn't know. He's like Mamma. He won't see what he doesn't want to see. It would be kinder not to tell him. But I can't be kind. He's joined with Mamma against me. They're two to one. Mamma must have said something to make him hate me." …Perhaps she hadn't. Perhaps he had only seen her disapproving, reproachful face … "If he says another word—if he looks like that again, I shall tell him."