"You ask me, you hypocrite, when you well know ?" Suddenly she faced him, stiffening into pride and hard rebellion.
"No more of that, father!" she exclaimed, her eyes blazing.

"I am your daughter, but you can't talk to me thus.

You must not!" "Who--who are _you_ to say 'must not ?'" he gibed, now wholly beside himself.

"You--you, who love a vagabond, a tramp, scum and off-scouring of the gutter ?" A strange, half-choking sound was his only answer.

Then, with no word, she turned away from him, biting her lip lest she answer and betray herself.
"Go!" he commanded, bloodless and quivering.