She glanced at Paul. He made a movement as though to quit the room, but Adrea prevented him. "You need not go!" she said. "Anything that is to be said can be said to you as well as to me. I prefer to have no secrets! You were going to say something to me," she added, turning to her companion.
"Yes! I have no objection to say it before Mr. de Vaux. I simply want to ask you whether you consider him a proper visitor in this house?"
"I choose it! I am mistress here!"
For a moment an angry reply seemed to quiver upon the woman's lips, but it died away.
"You are right! I thank you for reminding me of it," she said quietly. "And yet, Adrea, hear me! You are doing an evil thing! Was your father's murder so light a thing to you that you can join hands with his murderer's son? Remember that day! Think of your father lying across that chamber floor, stricken dead in a single moment by Martin de Vaux—by his father! It is not seemly that you two should stand there, hand in hand! It is not seemly for you to be under the same roof! It is horrible!"
There was a moment's silence. Then Adrea threw open the door, and pointed to it.
"Go!" she ordered coldly. "You have had your say, and that is my answer! You were my father's friend; I believe that he loved you! It was for his sake that I offered you shelter! It was for his sake that I brought you here! But, remember this: if you wish to stay with me, let me never hear another word from you on this subject!"
She went out silently. Adrea closed the door, and turned round with all the hardness fading swiftly out of her features. A moment before there had been a look of the tigress in her eyes; and Paul, watching her, had shuddered. It was gone now. She came close up to Paul, and led him to a chair.
"Was I very undignified?" she said, laughing. "I am afraid I was. I was very angry!"