His face grew hard, and his eyes dark with a flash of hate and anger.
"An insult paid to his wife! Yes! But one paid to Miss Violet Graham is another matter!"
"What do you mean?" she demanded, scornfully. "I am not Violet Graham, I am his wife."
"You are Violet Graham, but you are not Blair's wife; you are not the Countess of Ferrers, my dear!"
She looked at him, the blood rushing to her face at the contemptuous familiarity of the last two words.
"Leave the room, sir!" she exclaimed, raising her hand and pointing to the door. "You have abused my patience; go, or you will indeed compel me to forget your 'services,' and make it necessary that my paid servants should use force!"
He laughed softly, and his eyes glowed with admiration.
"Violet, I swear that every instant you make me love you more passionately! I see you think I lied when I said you were not Blair's wife, is it not so?"
"I know that you lied!" she retorted, as calmly as she could.