What is it, child?
Don't be afraid of me. Did you run away from home?"
"Oh, no!" Azalea looked frightened. Then she burst into tears. "Wh-what
makes you think I'm doing wrong?" she sobbed; "I'm not,--I'm oh,--I'm
all right!" Her air of bravado suddenly returned and she looked up
defiantly, brushing her tears aside.
Farnsworth could, as he said, read her face, and he was quite ready to
meet her explanations when she was in a docile mood, but this quick
return to her pose of injured innocence roused him to fresh indignation.
"I daresay you _are_ all right, Azalea, and therefore it will be easy
for you to answer a few questions which I must insist on having
answered. Who was it that telephoned you yesterday?"
"Oh, that was Mr. Smith."
"His name is _not_ Smith!" Farnsworth spoke so sharply that Azalea
fairly jumped.
But she insisted, "Yes, it is--"
"I _know_ it is not! It was the man who came here to see you one
day,--and whatever his name is, it is not Smith! Tell me the truth or
not, as you choose, but don't try to insist on Smith!"
"All right, then I choose to tell you nothing, I have a perfect right to
have friends telephone me, and I think it shows an ill-bred curiosity
for you to ask their names!"
Azalea's would-be haughty face and her reference to ill-breeding struck
Farnsworth so funny he laughed in spite of himself.
Azalea was quick to take advantage of this.
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