Joan lifted her eyes from her book. Her voice was as low as her mother’s, but steadier.
“No,” she answered.
“Is this conduct to continue? Is it?” Lady Mallowe panted.
“Yes,” said Joan, and laid her book on the table near her. There was nothing else to say. Words made things worse.
Lady Mallowe had lost her head, but she still spoke in the suppressed voice.
“You shall behave yourself!” she cried, under her breath, and actually made a passionate half-start toward her.
“Wouldn’t it be wise to remember that you cannot make the kind of scene here that you can in your own house?” said Joan. “We are a bad-tempered pair. But when we are guests in other people’s houses—”
“You think you can take advantage of that!” she said. “Don’t trust yourself too far. Do you imagine that just when all might go well for me I will allow you to spoil everything?”
“How can I spoil everything?”