"Can you open this door," said Mr. Glascock, "or shall we go round again?" Trevelyan had stood still contemplating them, but at last came forward and put back the bolt. "That is all right," said Mr. Glascock, entering. "I am sure you will be glad to see Sir Marmaduke."
"I should be glad to see him,—or you, if I could entertain you," said Trevelyan. His voice was harsh and hard, and his words were uttered with a certain amount of intended grandeur. "Any of the family would be welcome were it not—"
"Were it not what?" asked Mr. Glascock.
"It can be nothing to you, sir, what troubles I have here. This is my own abode, in which I had flattered myself that I could be free from intruders. I do not want visitors. I am sorry that you should have had trouble in coming here, but I do not want visitors. I am very sorry that I have nothing that I can offer you, Mr. Glascock."
"Emily is in Florence," said Sir Marmaduke.
"Who brought her? Did I tell her to come? Let her go back to her home. I have come here to be free from her, and I mean to be free. If she wants my money, let her take it."
"She wants her child," said Mr. Glascock.
"He is my child," said Trevelyan, "and my right to him is better than hers. Let her try it in a court of law, and she shall see. Why did she deceive me with that man? Why has she driven me to this? Look here, Mr. Glascock;—my whole life is spent in this seclusion, and it is her fault."
"Your wife is innocent of all fault, Trevelyan," said Mr. Glascock.
"Any woman can say as much as that;—and all women do say it. Yet,—what are they worth?"