“Why did you not stay down in Cornwall?”
“Miss Pengarth was away—and I preferred to return to London,” she told him quietly.
“When are you going to marry Aynesworth?” he asked.
She looked down into her glass and was silent. He leaned a little towards her.
“Perhaps,” he remarked quietly, “you are already married?”
Still she was silent. He saw the tears forced back from her eyes. He heard the sob break in her throat. Yet he said nothing. He only waited. At last she spoke.
“Nothing is settled yet,” she said, still without looking at him.
“I see no reason,” he said calmly, “why, until that time, you should refuse to accept your allowance from Mr. Pengarth.”
“I cannot take any more of your money,” she answered. “It was a mistake from the first, but I was foolish. I did not understand.”
His lip curled with scorn.