"Too much of this fooling! You musthear me now!"
With an attempt at a smile, Gertrude turned to her persecutor and said, "Once for all, leave me!"
"I will not," said he, in a low voice, but also with a smile on his face. "You cannot get away from me without exciting the suspicion, or the wonder at least, of the room. How long do you imagine I am going to let this pretty little play proceed? How long am I to look on and see the puppets dallying?"
Gertrude flushed scarlet as he said these words, but she did not speak.
"You're carrying this business with too high a hand," said he, emboldened by her silence. "You seem to forget that I have a word or two to say in the matter."
"See, Gilbert Lloyd," said Gertrude, still smiling and playing with her fan, "you sought me; not I you. Go now, and--"
"Go!" said Gilbert, who saw Miles Challoner looking hard at them,--"go, that he may come! Go! You give your orders freely! What hold have you on me that I am to obey them?"
"Would you wish me to tell you?"
"Tell away!" said Lloyd defiantly. "I don't mind."
"Here, then," said Gertrude, beckoning him a little closer with her fan, then whispering behind it. But one short sentence, a very few words, but, hearing them, Gilbert Lloyd turned death-white, and felt the room reel round before him. In an instant he recovered sufficiently to make a bow, and to leave the room and the house. When he got out into the street, the fresh air revived him; he leaned for a moment against some railings to collect his thoughts; and as he moved off, he said aloud, "He did suspect it, then; and he told her!"