"That's my name."
"Then why--why--?"
She flung her hands apart, unable to continue. Lulu Averill, moving with
the tread of a tigress stalking silently, stole down from the piano to
the edge of the carpet. Mildred's eyes as she still faced me were all
amber-colored fire. I was like a man waking in the morning from a night
of troubled dreams.
Little Mrs. Mountney dragged her laces across both the rugs to confront
me face to face, standing beside Mildred.
"Do you know who I am?"