"I don't seek to coerce you," she retorted, "but my daughter will obey me, and she will refuse your hand. I don't care if you are fifty times Lord Caranby. Juliet should not marry you if you had all the money in the world. I hated Walter Mallow, your uncle. He treated me shamefully, and I swore that never would any child of mine be connected with him. Selina wished it, and forced me to agree while she was alive. But she is dead and Lord Caranby is dead, and you can do nothing. I defy you—I defy you!"
"We may as well conduct this interview reasonably."
"I shall not let you remain here any longer. Go."
She pointed to the door with a dramatic gesture. Cuthbert took up his hat.
"I shall go if you insist," he said, moving towards the door, "and I shall return with a policeman."
Mrs. Octagon gave a gasp and went gray. "What do you mean?"
"You know well what I mean. Am I to go?"
"You have nothing against me," she said violently, "stop, if you will, and tell me the reason of that speech."
"I think you understand what I mean perfectly well," said Mallow again, and returning to his seat. "I know that your sister died years ago," Mrs. Octagon gasped, "and that Emilia feigned to be Selina Loach. And perhaps, Mrs. Octagon, you will remember how your sister died."
"I didn't touch her," gasped Mrs. Octagon, trembling.