Vashti's eyes opened wide in astonishment.
"I beg your pardon?" she murmured. "I do not understand."
"It seems to me," he caught her up, "that for a total stranger, you are losing remarkably little time."
"In what, sir?" she demanded, facing him fairly, with a lift of her handsome chin.
"In subverting my authority, ma'am; or, rather, in prompting others to subvert it.... Though, to be sure," he went on, in sarcastic wrath, "it may again be an accident that I happened on Eli Tregarthen less than an hour ago, and that he used very insolent language to me in the presence of my agent."
"It was not only an accident," said Vashti, slowly, and with patent sincerity; "it was one that, since I came here to urge his suit, I would have given a great deal to prevent." She paused, and for a moment seemed to be musing. "Must I understand, then, that you refuse to hear a word in his favour?"
"The man is a fool!" Sir Cæsar clasped his hands behind him under his coat-tails, and paced the room. "His insolence to me apart, he is a complete fool! I offer him the choice of two farms—either one of them acre for acre, worth twice the rental of Saaron.... I simply cannot understand!"
"No," said Vashti, with a little sigh, "you cannot understand."
He had reached the fireplace, and wheeled round on her, his back to the hearth and his legs a-straddle.
"What can I not understand?" he demanded.