"He loves me, he doesn't love you."
"Oh, but he does, Mademoiselle; you mistake. Bruce is not fond of English babies," this with a disdainful look at Maud's childish face, twisted with rage and grief.
"Ah, you cat. Wait till I see him face to face. He can't resist me. He never loved you--never, never, never."
Señora Guzman laughed again in the most irritating manner.
"You will never see him face to face. We go away, he and I, from this land of yours to South America. There we shall be happy."
Maud started to her feet.
"He shan't go, he won't go. I'll tell the police. I'll have him hanged. I'll--oh--oh--oh," she appeared to be on the verge of a fit of hysterics, when Herries, thinking this scene between the two women had gone far enough, caught her by the arms, and hurt her a trifle. The pain made her cry out, but it strung her up to overcoming the hysteria.
"You brute," said Maud, with a sob, "to strike a woman."
"I did not strike you," said Herries very patiently, "and if I have hurt you I beg your pardon. But you had better sit down quietly and tell me all you know."
"I shan't."