“He told me you had formally accepted him,” said the man, with enforced calm; “is that true?”
“Partly,” she replied.
“But you won’t marry him!”
The exclamation seemed to come straight from a heart brimful of passion, of love, of hate, and of revenge. The voice had the same intonation in it which had rung an hour ago in the dark Elkhorn woods.
“I may do,” came in quiet accents from my dear lady.
“You won’t marry him,” repeated Felkin, roughly.
“Who shall prevent me?” retorted Lady Molly, with a low, sarcastic laugh.
“I will.”
“You?” she said contemptuously.
“I told him an hour ago that he must give you up. I tell you now that you shall not be Philip Baddock’s wife.”