“There is one on my part, however,” said Alan, taking a seat; “you have disgraced Marie by this arrest of her uncle.”
“Oh, indeed. And you say that because you love her. Is the course of justice to be stayed for the tears of a chit?”
“Marie is not a chit,” retorted the lover angrily.
“Yes she is; yes she is,” taunted Miss Grison in quite a schoolgirl manner. “I hate her, I hated her mother, who made me a slave to her whims. I hate Sorley, and have paid him out.”
“Not yet.”
“What do you mean with your ‘not yet,’” asked Miss Grison contemptuously.
“I mean that he may prove his innocence at the trial.”
“He can’t; everything is against him.”
“So far I admit that. But some new evidence may turn up.”
“I don’t care what turns up,” said Miss Grison vehemently; “the man is a guilty beast and must be punished. I hate him, oh, how I hate him!”