Carmel knew such hot rage as she had never known before. She could have struck Fownes. Hot words sprang to her lips, but she suppressed them, fought for self-control. She laid a tiny hand on the Governor’s arm.
“Sir,” she said, “you occupy a great position this state. Thousands of people look up to you for the qualities you must possess.... Fairness must be among them. I insist that you listen to me now.... Abner Fownes, you have lied, deliberately and maliciously. You know there is no reason why I should not be here, no reason why any man or woman should object to my presence. It was a cowardly lie—told because you were afraid.”
“Shall I call a servant—to prevent a scene? Your guests may overhear.... It wouldn’t read well in the papers.”
The Governor hesitated, for he was a vacillating man, timorous, a mirror reflecting stronger images than his own.
“I—— Possibly you had better go quietly,” he said.
“I shall not go,” Carmel said. “You shall hear me. I will not leave except by force—and then you will have your scene.... It is too late for me to care what happens now. If you dare to eject me I promise you a scene....”
“But—er—young woman——”
“My name is Miss Lee, and you will address me so,” she said. “If you will listen to me five minutes, I will go.”
“Nonsense!” said Fownes.
“Why did she come? What is it all about? This is most unpleasant,” said the Governor.