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Updated: June 19, 2025
She endeavored to sustain, refute, the accusation successfully; but her valor wavered, broke. She disappeared abruptly. He surveyed Vibard without pleasure. "You're a ramshackle contraption," he observed crisply. "I got as good a right to it as her," the other repeated. "A hundred and forty dollars," Gordon said bitterly; "that's a small business. Well, where is it? Have you got it?"
"I ain't agoing a step," William told them both; "I'm going to stop right here with Uncle Gordon." "Well, then," the latter insisted, "get it through with what is it?" "I'll tell you what it is," William Vibard stammered; "it's a hundred and forty dollars Rose held out on you and kept in a drawer, that's what!" Rose's emotion changed to a crimson consternation.
The Vibard baby was alarmingly little, with a bluish face; and, as if in protest against her father's interminable noise, lay wrapped in a knitted red blanket without a murmur, without a stir of her midgelike form, hour upon hour.
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