"I am indeed sorry to spoil your dramatic effect," she said. "But you ought to have known that we are only half an hour behind you, at Sydenham, in the matter of news. The report is premature, my good friend. But if these newspaper people waited to find out whether a report is true or false, how much gossip would society get in its favorite newspapers? Besides, if it isn't true now, it will be true next week. The author only says, 'It's whispered.'
How delicate of him! What a perfect gentleman!"
"Am I really to understand, Mrs. Presty, that Catherine--"
"You are to understand that Catherine is a widow. I say it with pride, a widow of my making!"
"If this is one of your jokes, ma'am--"
"Nothing of the sort, sir."
"Are you aware, Mrs. Presty, that my brother--"
"Oh, don't talk of your brother! He's an obstacle in our way, and we have been compelled to get rid of him."
Randal drew back a step. Mrs. Presty's audacity was something more than he could understand. "Is this woman mad?" he said to himself.
"Sit down," said Mrs. Presty. "If you are determined to make a serious business of it--if you insist on my justifying myself--you are to be pitied for not possessing a sense of humor, but you shall have your own way. I am put on my defense. Very well. You shall hear how my divorced daughter and my poor little grandchild were treated at Sandyseal, after you left us."