They all referred to the sister.

"Temper--her own way--deaf--_would_ walk in all the rain and slush .-- A strange character--you can't imagine," and other similar phrases, uttered in a passionate and half-angry voice.

Then ejaculations from Mrs.Deo, and a word or two of caution or injunction in the polished tones of the lawyer, followed by a sudden rush towards the staircase, over which he was leaning.
"Show me my room," rang up in Georgian's bell-like tones; "then I'll tell you what to do about _her_.

She isn't easily managed." "But she'll get her death!" expostulated Mrs.Deo; "to say nothing of her losing her way in this dreadful darkness.

Let me send--" "Not yet," broke in his young wife's voice, with just the hint of asperity in it.