“As sure as I live it shall be done, unless they go.”
“Think of the publicity!” said my mother, clinging to my hand.
“Yes,” I rejoined, bitterly. “And think what might have happened if he’d got me with that knife.”
“You—you——” gasped Mr. Downes. “You are your father right over again!”
“Thank you; I consider that a compliment.”
“You wouldn’t consider it such if you knew as much about him as I do,” he muttered.
“Now that will do!” I exclaimed, losing my self-control on the instant. “I’ve heard enough insinuations regarding father from Paul tonight. I won’t stand any more of that talk, I warn you both!”
“Clinton!” murmured mother, with a very white face, while Downes turned upon his son in a sudden rage.
“What have you been saying—you fool?” he snarled. Paul was quite cowed before his sudden wrath.
“Paul may be diffident about saying,” I observed. “But I’ll tell you. He says my father committed suicide, and that if he hadn’t done so my mother and I would be paupers today.”