"What on earth do you want to bring such trash to me for ?" she demanded, breathing fast.
"I merely wished to know two things: whether it is your duty or mine to speak to father of what Aunt Amelia--" Fanny stamped her foot.

"You little fool!" she cried.

"You awful little fool!" "I decline--" "Decline, my hat! Your father's a sick man, and you--" "He doesn't seem so to me." "Well, he does to me! And you want to go troubling him with an Amberson family row! It's just what that cat would love you to do!" "Well, I--" "Tell your father if you like! It will only make him a little sicker to think he's got a son silly enough to listen to such craziness!" "Then you're sure there isn't any talk ?" Fanny disdained a reply in words.

She made a hissing sound of utter contempt and snapped her fingers.

Then she asked scornfully: "What's the other thing you wanted to know ?" George's pallor increased.