"What I feel about it is that a man with his reputation isn't at all
suitable for Edith, and the family ought to be made to understand it.
I tell you," she cried, with a sudden access of vehemence, "her father
ought to put his foot down!"
Her eyes flashed with a green spark; something seemed to leap out and
then retreat, but not before Mary had caught a glimpse of it, as one
might catch a glimpse of a thing darting forth and then scuttling back
into hiding under a bush.
"Of course," said Sibyl, much more composedly, "I hardly need say
that it's entirely on Edith's account that I'm worried about this.
I'm as fond of Edith as if she was really my sister, and I can't help
fretting about it. It would break my heart to have Edith's life
spoiled."
This tune was off the key, to Mary's ear. Sibyl tried to sing with
pathos, but she flatted.
And when a lady receives a call from another who suffers under the
stress of some feeling which she wishes to conceal, there is not
uncommonly developed a phenomenon of duality comparable to the effect
obtained by placing two mirrors opposite each other, one clear and the
other flawed. In this case, particularly, Sibyl had an imperfect
consciousness of Mary.
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