“O! I see well enough you too want me out of the way,” said Moll, perking a scornful nose. “What is the good of going round about it like this? I’m dangerous where I am, I suppose. Very well, then I must be got rid of.”
He laughed.
“Too impulsive, too impulsive, my little lady. Dangerous you could be, that’s patent, to any man’s peace of mind. But, as to the sense in which you mean it——”
She broke in with a little imperious stamp.
“As to that, I’m not to be misjudged by you or any one. When I said the scandal wasn’t in my position, I meant it. If you think I’m there as my lord’s doxy, you’re precious well mistaken. I hate the beast—and if it’s a question of scandal, ’tis her ladyship ought to go. There, she ought; and you know why.”
“I don’t, on my honour.”
“Then, you’d like to.”
“Ah! that, maybe, is quite another matter.”
He looked at her, she looked at him.
“Come, Mrs. Davis,” he said, after a minute of silence: “I’m sure we are on the way to understand one another.”