"She is mine already."
"You're a liar!" she yelled, crying now, and her evil little face screwed up horribly in her anger. Mrs. McCarthy was trembling as if a chill had come over her. Ethel suddenly flew to the 'phone. She got a number, and he heard her scream:
"Glavis! Glav—is.... That man is here!... Glav—is!... That man is here!..." He could understand no more, then, but saw that she was frantic. He finally heard Mother Mary.
"You're wanted at the 'phone," she said, tremblingly. He got up and went to it. Ethel was dancing about the room like a demon.
"Hello!" he called.
"Hello!" came back. "Ah—ha—who—who—who is th-is?" the other sputtered, all excitement.
"Baptiste," replied the other, wondering at his excitement.
"Wh—at a—re yo—u do-i-ng a—t m-y h-o-u-s-e?"
"Oh, say," called back Baptiste. "There's nobody dead out here. Now calm yourself and say what you want to. I'm listening."
"We—ll," said the other, a little better controlled. "I ask what you are doing at my house?"