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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Magnificent Ambersons"

I mean to know--"
"You'll know something pretty quick!" she said, rising with
difficulty; and her voice was thick with the sense of insult. "You'll
know that you're out in the street. Please to leave my house!"
George stiffened sharply. Then he bowed, and strode out of the door.
Three minutes later, disheveled and perspiring, but cold all over, he
burst into his Uncle George's room at the Major's without knocking.
Amberson was dressing.
"Good gracious, Georgie!" he exclaimed. "What's up?"
"I've just come from Mrs. Johnson's--across the street," George
panted.
"You have your own tastes!" was Amberson's comment. "But curious as
they are, you ought to do something better with your hair, and button
your waistcoat to the right buttons--even for Mrs. Johnson! What were
you doing over there?"
"She told me to leave the house," George said desperately. "I went
there because Aunt Fanny told me the whole town was talking about my
mother and that man Morgan--that they say my mother is going to marry
him and that proves she was too fond of him before my father died--she
said this Mrs.


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