"She is not well off, as I have told you; but she has a certain standing in the neighbourhood. And it is not well for a doctor to quarrel with those around him."
"Hypocrite!" said the woman, in a dull but furious way. The very stolidity of her often made the outburst the more remarkable.
"Don't you think I see into you? Don't you think I know you?— that I haven't known for the past six months the reason of your visits to the Villa?"
"Put an end to this," said the doctor, in a slow, cold voice.
"Are you mad?" His dark eyes glowed.
He was a tall, singularly gaunt man, and handsome. The deeply-set eyes were brilliant, and dark as night. As night too, unfathomable. The mouth was fixed, cold, determined, and suggestive of cruelty. The brow was broad and grand. He was about forty-five, and in manner was suave, low-voiced, and agreeable. Education and resolution had lifted him up from his first surroundings to a plane that made him level with those with whom he now desired to mix. But all his quality could not conceal the fact that he would be a bad man to fight with—that he possessed an indomitable will that would drive all things before it, till it gained the object of its desire.
"Mad? Don't think you'll make me that. I tell you again and again that I know very well why you visit at—-"
He turned upon her, and by an impressive gesture stopped her.
"How dare you speak so of—-"
"Miss Nesbitt?" She laughed aloud as she interrupted him.