(She'd begun to walk up and down once more.) "You don't mean to say you ever told your father about _him_!" "Oh, no, not everything," I explained, trying to show how patient I was, so she would be patient, too.

(But it didn't work.) "I couldn't tell him everything because everything hadn't happened then.

But I told about his being here, and about the others, too; but, of course, I said I didn't know which you'd take, and--" "You told him you didn't know _which I'd take_!" gasped Mother.
Just like that she interrupted, and she looked so shocked.

And she didn't look much better when I explained very carefully what I did say, even though I assured her over and over again that Father was interested, very much interested.

When I said that, she just muttered, "Interested, indeed!" under her breath.