Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. But the sheer tenacity of the girl defeated him. ‘That’s wicked, that is. He had spoken impressively, and most likely Anna, had she reappeared, would have met with a fair reception. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. ‘Why, that’s one of the names with which she tried to fob me off. “I have given it up,” she answered.
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