"There's somebody outside our house," said Mrs. Vickers, who had been in
a state of amazed discomfort the whole time.
Mr. Vickers approached warily. Two people were on the doorstep in the
attitude of listeners, while a third was making strenuous attempts to
peep through at the side of the window-blind. From inside came the sound
of voices raised in dispute, that of Selina's being easily
distinguishable.
"What--what's all this?" demanded Mr. Vickers, in trembling tones, as he
followed his wife inside and closed the door.
He glanced from Selina, who was standing in front of Mr. Tasker in the
manner of a small hen defending an overgrown chicken, to Mr. Russell, who
was towering above them and trying to reach him.
[Illustration: "Selina was standing in front of Mr. Tasker in the manner
of a small hen defending an overgrown chicken."]
"What's all this?" he repeated, with an attempt at pomposity.
The disputants all spoke at once: Mr. Russell with an air of jocular
ferocity, Miss Vickers in a voice that trembled with passion, and Mr.
Tasker speaking as a man with a grievance.
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