"Why did you make use of such an expression?" asked Morley.
"Because I was carried out of myself. I have a strain of negro blood in me, and at times say more than I mean."
"And your negro blood will make you kill me," cried Daisy, with an expression of terror. "I am doomed—doomed!"
"Don't be a fool, child," said Morley roughly.
"She is a trifle hysterical," explained Mrs. Morley, comforting the girl, who was sobbing violently.
"Mr. Morley," said Anne, rising, "I don't know who wrote that letter, or why it should have been written. Mr. Ware and I are friends, nothing more. I am not in love with him, nor is he in love with me. He has paid me no more attention than you have yourself."
"No, that is true enough," replied Morley, "and as Giles is engaged to Daisy I don't think he is the man to pay marked attention to another woman."
"Ah! Giles is all right," cried Daisy angrily, "but she has tempted him."
"I deny that."
"You can deny what you like. It is true, you know it is true."