"I want more."
"You won't get more. Get away, or I'll order my servants to turn you out."
Villiers staggered up to her.
"Will you, indeed? Who are you to talk to me like this? I'll go now, but I'll come back, my beauty! Don't try your fine airs on me. I'll get money from you when I want it; if I don't, I'll make you repent it."
Kitty stood looking at him like a statue of marble, and pointed to the open window.
"I spare you for your wife's sake," she said coldly. "Go!"
Villiers lurched towards the window, then, turning round, shook his fist at her.
"I've not done with you yet, my fine madam," he said thickly. "You'll be sorry for these fine airs, you----"
He staggered out without saying the vile word, and disappeared in the darkness.
A vile word, and yet what was that Mrs. Malton said about her child blushing for her father? God help her, would Meg live to blush for her mother? Kitty put out her hands with a sob, when a burst of laughter from the next room sounded in her ears. The momentary fit of tenderness was over, and, with a harsh laugh, she poured out a glass of champagne and drank it off.