"He has come to bid me farewell," said Emily. "When going on so long a journey one likes to see one's old friends,—perhaps for the last time." There was something of indifference to his anger in her tone, and something also of scorn.
Lopez looked from one to the other, affecting an air of great displeasure. "You know, sir," he said, "that you cannot be welcome here."
"But he has been welcome," said his wife.
"And I look upon your coming as a base act. You are here with the intention of creating discord between me and my wife."
"I am here to tell her that she has a friend to trust to if she ever wants a friend," said Fletcher.
"And you think that such trust as that would be safer than trust in her husband? I cannot turn you out of this house, sir, because it does not belong to me, but I desire you to leave at once the room which is occupied by my wife." Fletcher paused a moment to say good-bye to the poor woman, while Lopez continued with increased indignation, "If you do not go at once you will force me to desire her to retire. She shall not remain in the same room with you."
"Good-bye, Mr. Fletcher," she said, again putting out her hand.
But Lopez struck it up, not violently, so as to hurt her, but still with eager roughness. "Not in my presence," he said. "Go, sir, when I desire you."
"God bless you, my friend," said Arthur Fletcher. "I pray that I may live to see you back in the old country."
"He was—kissing you," said Lopez, as soon as the door was shut.