“I did go to see him; yes.”
“To persuade him to break our engagement?”
“Anne—”
“Answer me, please.”
“To ask him—to try to make him see....”
The girl interrupted her with a laugh. “You made him break our engagement—you did it. And all this time—all these dreadful months—you let me think it was because he was tired of me!” She sprang to her mother and caught her by the wrists. Her hot fingers seemed to burn into Kate’s shivering flesh.
“Look at me, please, mother; no, straight in the eyes. I want to try to find out which of us you hated most; which of us you most wanted to see suffer.”
The mother disengaged herself and stood up. “As for suffering—if you look at me, you’ll see I’ve had my share.”
The girl seemed not to hear. “But why—why—why?” she wailed.
A reaction of self-defence came over Kate Clephane. Anne’s white-heat of ire seemed to turn her cold, and her self-possession returned.