Claude replied to the question by moving with Maisie to Mrs. Wix. The next thing the child knew she was at that lady's side with an arm firmly grasped. Mrs. Beale still guarded the door. "Let them pass," said Sir Claude at last.
She remained there, however; Maisie saw the pair look at each other. Then she saw Mrs. Beale turn to her. "I 'm your mother now, Maisie. And he 's your father."
"That's just where it is!" Mrs. Wix sighed with an effect of irony positively detached and philosophic.
Mrs. Beale continued to address her young friend, and her effort to be reasonable and tender was in its way remarkable. "We 're representative, you know, of Mr. Farange and his former wife. This person represents mere illiterate presumption. We take our stand on the law."
"Oh the law, the law!" Mrs. Wix superbly jeered. "You had better indeed let the law have a look at you!"
"Let them pass—let them pass!" Sir Claude pressed his friend—he pleaded.
But she fastened herself still to Maisie. "Do you hate me, dearest?"
Maisie looked at her with new eyes, but
