And it met, as I have told
you, with your son's consent and approval."
The thermometer went up to the top of the register. I mean, the pink
changed suddenly to scarlet.
"My son is a mean-spirited hound!" cried this furious old worldling.
"In justice to myself as his father--not in justice to HIM--I beg to
ask you, Miss Verinder, what complaint you have to make of Mr. Godfrey
Ablewhite?"
Here Mr. Bruff interfered for the first time.
"You are not bound to answer that question," he said to Rachel.
Old Mr. Ablewhite fastened on him instantly.
"Don't forget, sir," he said, "that you are a self-invited guest here.
Your interference would have come with a better grace if you had waited
until it was asked for."
Mr. Bruff took no notice. The smooth varnish on HIS wicked old face
never cracked. Rachel thanked him for the advice he had given to her,
and then turned to old Mr. Ablewhite--preserving her composure in a
manner which (having regard to her age and her sex) was simply awful to
see.
"Your son put the same question to me which you have just asked," she
said. "I had only one answer for him, and I have only one answer for
you.
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