"Wal, Scram got said, didn't it, 'Lish, even if 'twarn't you said it? That gal is an up-to-date little piece. She knows what's what. I told you no shindy of this sort was complete unless somebody said: Scram!"
[Chapter XVI]
Left alone, Marcia, weary and spent, collapsed into a chair and closed her eyes, appearing to forget the presence of the girl who, with parted lips, hovered impatiently at her elbow.
Something in the woman's aloofness not only discouraged speech but rendered any interruption an intrusion.
At length, however, she roused herself and sighing deeply looked about, and taking the gesture as permission to break the silence, the torrent of words Sylvia had until now held in check, broke from her:
"Was it true, Marcia—what they said about Uncle Jason I mean? Was it true?"
"I'm afraid so, dear."
"But you never told me; and you never told Mother, either. Of course I see why. You didn't want her to know because it would have broken her heart. So you kept it all to yourself. You did not mean I should find it out, did you?"