“You have been here a month, Aurelia Delavie. Have you come to your senses, and are you ready to sign this paper?”
“No, madam, I cannot.”
“Silly fly; you are as bent as ever on remaining in the web in which a madman and a foolish boy have involved you?”
“I cannot help it, madam.”
“Oh! I thought,” and her voice became harshly clear, though so low, “that you might have other schemes, and be spreading your toils at higher game.”
“Certainly not, madam.”
“Your colour shows that you understand, in spite of all your pretences.”
“I have never used any pretences, my lady,” said Aurelia, looking up in her face with clear innocent eyes.
“You have had no visitors? None!”
“None, madam, except once when the Lady Arabella Mar forced her way in, out of curiosity, I believe, and her brother followed to take her away.”