"Thank God in
Heaven, at least you are a woman!" he said, turning to her.
"A woman! Why thank God for that? Here, at least, a woman's sole
privilege is insult and abuse."
The others heard but did not all understand her taunt. Tears
sprang to the eyes of young Carlisle. "Don't talk so!" was all he
could exclaim, feeling himself not wholly innocent of reproach.
Dunwody's face flushed a deep red. He made no answer except to
call aloud for the old house servant, Sally, who presently appeared.
"Madam," said Dunwody, in a low voice, limping forward toward
Josephine, "you and I must declare some sort of truce. The world
has all gone helter-skelter. What'll become of us I don't know;
but we need a woman here now."
She gazed at him steadily, but made no reply. Growling, he turned
away and limped up the steps, beckoning the others to follow into
the hall.
They entered, awkward, silent, and stood about, none knowing what
was best to do. Dunwody, luckless and unhappy as he was, still
remembered something of his place as host, and would have led them,
friends and enemies, into the dining-room beyond in search of some
refreshment.
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