"That is her affair and yours. You are not in mine. I discharge you. Your next month's wages will be paid, after which you will not receive another shilling from me."
"Upon what grounds am I discharged, monsieur?"
"You are not discharged, Annette," exclaimed Barbara.
"I know, madame. I take it only from you. I asked monsieur a question."
"Upon the grounds of treachery and unfaithfulness," I said, calmly.
"You hear," she said, appealing to the others. "It is slander. You are witnesses. It is not the first time—no, it is not the first time."
"Our law courts are open to you," I said. "Try them, and see what an English judge will say to you."
"Madame is perhaps right," she remarked, with a sly glance at the decanter of brandy on the table. "Monsieur is not in his senses." Her voice was as smooth as if she were paying me compliments, and her manner was entirely unruffled.
At this point Barbara started up in a fit of passion. "You monster!" she screamed, and would have thrown herself upon me had not Maxwell held her back.
"Hold hard, Barbara," he said. "Let us see the end of it. Don't spoil the drama. It is really a very good drama, John."