“So? I’m sorry, on my word, cousin.”

“Did you not quarrel with him?”

“For what he did to you?”

“Yes. You could not know what he’d said.”

“We had words, I confess.”

“About what? Is he jealous of you?”

“What if he were, Kate?”

She clenched her little left fist in wrathful glee.

“Is he? I could love to believe it.”

“Why?” He looked at her eagerly.