"Impudent scoundrel," said Rachel, jumping up and glaring at him.
"That is all very well, but I have endeavoured to save you. I would believe none of them when they told me that you would not be my wife because you were married to Mr. Jones. Nor would I believe them when they have told me since that you were not fit to be the wife of anyone." Rachel's hand went in among the folds of her dress, and returned with a dagger in it. Words had been said to her now which she swore to herself were unbearable. "Yes; you are in a passion now;" and as he said so, he contrived to get the round table with which the room was garnished between himself and her.
"It is true," she said, "your words have been so base that I am no doubt angry."
"But if you knew it, I am endeavouring to save you. Imprudent as you have been I still wish to make you my wife." Here Rachel in her indignation spat upon the floor. "Yes; I am anxious to make you an honest woman."
"You can make no woman honest. It is altogether beyond your power."
"It will be so when you have taken this lord's money."
"I have not at any rate taken yours. It is that which would disgrace me. Between this lord and me there has been no word that could do so."
"Will he make you his wife?"
"Wife! No. He is married for aught that I know. He has spoken to me no word except about my profession. Nor shall you. Cannot a woman sing without being wife to any man?"
"Ha, ha, yes indeed!"