First Mr. Mayfield shouted, then Margaret, goaded by his unfair accusations, joined him, and finally Sir Justin could contain himself no longer and added his voice to theirs. They none of them listened to one another, and it was only when they became aware of the astonished faces of the Appleby family in the corridor outside the parlor that they quieted a bit. “I shall require a room for the night,” Mr. Mayfield told his hosts. “That is all. You needn’t gape.” “Th-this is my father,” put in Margaret. “Aye,” agreed Mr. Appleby. “We gathered as much. And not the gentleman’s father, I take it?” “N-no.” “I was adopted,” suggested Keighley. Margaret was so startled she almost giggled. The Applebys looked unimpressed. “Get out, get out,” exclaimed Mayfield impatiently, moving to shut the door. “We’ll ring if we want anything.”
