And of course I wasn't going to stand there and hear that, and not say a word.
But I didn't say just a word.

I said a good many words.

I won't try to put them all down here; but I told her quietly, in a firm voice, and with no temper (showing), that I guessed Father was just as much of a skeleton in Mother's closet as she was in his; and that if she could see how perfectly happy my mother was now she'd understand a little of what my father's skeleton had done to her all those years she'd had to live with it.
I said a lot more, but before I'd got half finished with what I wanted to say, I got to crying, so I just had to run out of the room.
That night I heard Aunt Jane tell Mrs.Darling that the worst feature of the whole deplorable situation was the effect on the child's mind, and the wretched conception it gave her of the sacredness of the marriage tie, or something like that.

And Mrs.Darling sighed, and said, oh, and ah, and the pity of it.
I don't like Mrs.Darling.
Of course, as I said before, Mrs.Darling could be my new mother, being a widow, so.

But, mercy! I hope she won't.