Colonel Lane took a pace back, his arms folded.
“Phyllis!” he called. “Come out of that room immediately!”
Then violent sobbing made itself heard from behind the door.
“Say what you like to me, sir,” said Philip, his back still against the door, “but don’t be hard on Phyllis. She is such a child!”
“The more shame to you!” roared the Colonel, “for so taking advantage of her innocence. Move away, and let her obey her father.”
“Let me come out, Philip!” sobbed Phyllis.
Philip moved away from the door, the handle of which he had kept gripped tightly till then.
Phyllis, her hair fallen from its securing pins, her face blurred with weeping, entered the room.
“Philip didn’t know I was here. Indeed he did not!” she cried. “He is the best friend I have, and you want to separate us! I am miserable; I am a most wretched girl, and if you knew everything you would pity me!”
“Fiddlesticks!” replied the Colonel unkindly.