"What do you mean, sir?" demanded the woman, a tide of crimson flushing her face. "I detest the man."
"But I thought----"
"Then do not think, if your thoughts lead you into such follies. What? I love Arnold Calvert--that doll of a man who----"
"Madame," interrupted Bocaros, wondering if this indignation was feigned. "Calvert is my enemy, yet I say he is a manly and handsome young gentleman. Be just!"
"Just! I am indignant. Are you not aware I am a married woman--that I have a child? How dare you. But that I insist upon an explanation, I would have you turned out of the house!"
"Bocaros arose. There is no need; I will go."
"No. You will speak out," said she imperiously.
"I will go," insisted the professor, "and I will take my information to the police."
"It is a pity you were not earlier," sneered Mrs. Fane. "Inspector Derrick, who had charge of the case, was with my husband."
"I met them going out of the door," replied Bocaros serenely. "Had I known the gentleman with Mr. Fane was a police officer, I might have been tempted to speak. But I was resolved to give you a chance to exculpate yourself."