Jorge rose.
“It must be that lady; I have a few words to say to her.”
And he remained standing by the table, sharpening a toothpick with deliberation.
Luiza rose, trembling.
Jorge caught her quietly by the arm.
“No, allow me,” he said; “let me have that pleasure!”
Luiza dropped into a chair, very pale. The noise of Juliana’s high heels could be heard in the hall. Jorge continued tranquilly sharpening his toothpick.
Luiza turned towards him, and clasping her hands, said in a supplicating voice,—
“Don’t say anything to her!”
He looked at her in astonishment.