“Didn’t you ask me if I was determined to ignore that fellow’s claim on Violet?”
“Certainly.”
“And didn’t you mean to take his part?” dubiously.
“Certainly not!”
“Then, by gad, what did you mean, girl? Explain yourself!”
“Don’t speak so loud, grandpapa, please. If we are heard, everything is lost,” breathed Amber, glancing timorously at the door, with her taper finger at her lips.
He suppressed another growl and contented himself with glaring impatiently at her from the shade of his heavy, beetling white brows.
Secure of her victory, Amber smiled archly at him, and cried, gayly:
“Don’t look at me so angrily, like a great lion about to gobble me up; for though I am only a little mouse I am going to help you to your wish.”
“You,” contemptuously. “You can’t persuade Violet to marry Castello, I know, and you can’t lure Grant away from her, for I think you’ve already tried that game, and failed, eh?”