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She stopped the tirade, not because she cared what the girl
was saying, but because she couldn't stay in the room with a person
making that sort of an exhibition of herself. It took no more than half
a dozen words to accomplish this result. The mere fact that she spoke,
after that rather long blank period of speechlessness, and the cold
blaze of her blue eyes that accompanied her words, effected more than
the words themselves. And then, in a tempest of tears and
self-reproaches, Olga repented--a phase of the situation which was
worse, almost, than the former one, because it couldn't be dealt with
quite so summarily.
But Rose went on dressing as fast as she could all the while, and at
last, long before Olga had begun putting on her street clothes, she was
ready to go. With her hand on the door-latch she paused.
"I am going to have supper with Mr. Galbraith," she said. "He told me
there was something he wanted to talk to me about." And with that she
let herself out of the room, indifferent to the effect these last words
of hers might produce.


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