But George shuddered, pretending not to see them, and stooped as if searching for something lost in the grass, protracting that posture until the victoria was out of hearing. And ten minutes later, George Amberson, somewhat in the semblance of an angry person plunging out of the Mansion, found a pale nephew waiting to accost him.
"I haven't time to talk, Georgie."
"Yes, you have. You'd better!"
"What's the matter, then?"
His namesake drew him away from the vicinity of the house. "I want to tell you something I just heard Aunt Amelia say, in there."
"I don't want to hear it," said Amberson. "I've been hearing entirely too much of what 'Aunt Amelia, says, lately."
"She says my mother's on your side about this division of the property because you're Eugene Morgan's best friend."
"What
