“May I ask your name?”
“I’m Lorinda Rhett.”
“Hamilton Rhett’s daughter!”
“Stepdaughter,” the girl corrected.
“You’re just the person I want to see!” exclaimed Penny, overjoyed at her good fortune. “Your stepfather—”
“I’ll answer no questions about him,” the girl interrupted. “You may as well spare your breath. Mother and I want no reporters here.”
“So you know who I am?”
“How could one help knowing? You nearly broke our door down with your pounding, and I heard you talking to Antón.”
“Your servant?”
“My stepfather’s,” Lorinda corrected with a slight inflection which suggested that she did not entirely approve of Antón. “Now will you stop asking questions and go away?”