"Mama—you—no—no. Oh, mama—Oh—"
A quick spout of hysteria seemed to half strangle Mrs. Samstag, so that she slanted backward, holding her throat.
"I knew it. My own child against me. Oh, God! Why was I born? My own child against me!"
"Mama—you can't marry him. You can't marry—anybody."
"Why can't I marry anybody? Must I be afraid to tell my own child when a good man wants to marry me and give us both a good home? That's my thanks for making my child my first consideration—before I accepted him."
"Mama, you didn't accept him. Darling, you wouldn't do a—thing like that!"
Miss Samstag's voice thickened up then, quite frantically, into a little scream that knotted in her throat and she was suddenly so small and stricken, that with a gasp for fear she might crumple up where she stood, Mrs. Samstag leaned forward, catching her again by the sash.
"Alma!"
It was only for an instant, however. Suddenly Miss Samstag was her coolly firm little self, the bang of authority back in her voice.