"He then went on to say that you made him a poor return for his civility by shutting your door in his face, but that he did not doubt you would think better of it when you had heard his message. Therefore, he said, he should call again. That, Lady Ongar, was the whole of it."
"Shall I tell you what his intention was, Harry?" Again her face became red as she asked this question; but the colour which now came to her cheeks was rather that of shame than of anger.
"What was his intention?"
"To make you believe that I am in his power; to make you think that he has been my lover; to lower me in your eyes, so that you might believe all that others have believed,—all that Hugh Clavering has pretended to believe. That has been his object, Harry, and perhaps you will tell me what success he has had."
"Lady Ongar!"
"You know the old story, that the drop which is ever dropping will wear the stone. And after all why should your faith in me be as hard even as a stone?"
"Do you believe that what he said had any such effect?"
"It is very hard to look into another person's heart; and the dearer and nearer that heart is to your own, the greater, I think, is the difficulty. I know that man's heart,—what he calls his heart; but I don't know yours."
For a moment or two Clavering made no answer, and then, when he did speak, he went back from himself to the count.
"If what you surmise of him be true, he must be a very devil. He cannot be a man—"