She turned her shoulder on him and his sneering, and again addressed Moll—
“Was it not enough to impose yourself on us, as you did, without setting your wicked wits to work to spite us in this fashion? Why did you do it?”
“O!” said Mrs. Davis nonchalantly, “I was tired of you all and your tragic ways; and I wanted some fun; and there was none to be got out of that jealous grumps of a husband of yours; and—and so I played for a general post. What then, and what cause have you, of all people, to blame me for it?”
Now, at that, Chesterfield, uttering an oath, made a run for the saucy creature, as if he were minded to strike her.
“No, damn it, Phil!” cried Hamilton, moving to interpose—“hold your hand. What cause have you either, for that matter!”
“Cause!” cried the nobleman, glaring round. “What the devil do you do defending her? Are you in her confidence? Cause, by God! I’ll have her by the heels for a common rogue and impostor—I’ll——” and he was making for the girl again.
She struck out at him, with a little shriek.
“Jack Davis,” she cried, “are you going to see your wife ill-treated before your eyes?”
There was a rustle in the shadows, and a long form came bounding out, and seemed to tumble towards the mound.
“Zounds!” ejaculated Hamilton, “his wife! If it isn’t the harping prodigy!” He whistled. “’Tis all plain now.”