"Have her where?"
"Where I know she's been—where your mother says she's been—in your house. Now, don't turn on your mother; she hasn't said a word against her. I'm not saying a word. But you mustn't—have—her—about, Randall. You mustn't have her about. There'd be talk and all, before you know where you are. It isn't right and it isn't proper."
"No, Ranny, it isn't proper," said his mother; and his aunt said, No, it wasn't, too.
Ranny laughed unpleasantly.
"You think it's as improper as the other thing, do you?"
He addressed his uncle.
"What other thing?" said Mr. Randall. It had made him wince even while he pretended not to see it. It had brought him so near.
"What my wife's done."
"Well, Randall, since you ask me, to all appearances—appearances, mind you—it is."
"Appearances?"