She shook her head.
“I'll ask Tom,” he retorted. “He will tell me.”
He was baffled and curiously charmed by the smile that touched her sharply curved young mouth.
“Tom may,” she said.
“I was ready to accept you as a sister,” he persisted, “and you won't even admit me as a casual visitor!”
She took a step toward the door. “Wait till you hear Tom's story,” she said.
Amory stared curiously at her. “Do you think he will be vindictive, after all?” he said. “Why should he be, if what you say is just?”
She paused. “Wait till you see Tom and Mrs. White; then if you want to know me, why—” She was blushing again.
“Well,” Amory demanded, “what shall I do?”
She looked up with a sort of childish charm, curling her lip, lighting her eyes with something of laughter and mischief. “Why, look for me and you'll find me.”