“Be quiet, child!” cried Selena Gault. But the passionate little girl’s shrill voice rose to a defiant shriek as she jumped up from the sofa, flung the cat upon the floor, shook back her tangled curls, and screamed aloud. “And I’d never have known about Aunt Mattie not being my real mother if I hadn’t listened!”⁠ ⁠…

If Miss Gault had not managed the child with perfect tact before, she rose to the occasion now.

“It’s all right, Olwen dear,” she said in the calmest and most matter-of-fact voice. “I daresay it’s because grown-up people talk such a lot of nonsense that they get so cross when children listen. There! Look! You’ve frightened your own favourite!”

It was when matters were at this point of psychic equilibrium that Wolf decided that no more moments must elapse before he informed his hostess of his mother’s arrival. The nervous electricity with which the air of the room was already vibrating, encouraged rather than deterred him.