It was Jack Portland’s opportunity, and he seized it.
‘What an actress you are,’ he commenced, as soon as they were alone. ‘You would have made your fortune on the stage.’
‘I don’t understand you,’ she said. ‘In what have I acted a part to-night?’
‘Why, in your well counterfeited dismay at the idea of danger to Ilfracombe, of course. When the old lady was telling me about it, I thought I should have split. You—turned to stone with apprehension. You—the coldest woman in Christendom! who has no more feeling than a piece of marble! It is ridiculous. You know it was all put on.’
‘Why shouldn’t I feel uneasy if he is in danger? He is my husband. You cannot deny that.’
‘Your husband, yes. And what did you marry him for? His title and his money! You cannot deny that. Two years ago you were, or fancied yourself, desperately in love with another man—modesty forbids me to mention him by name—but you chucked him over; why? Because he hadn’t as much money as you expected to sell yourself for!’
‘It isn’t true,’ she answered hotly. ‘You know that it was my father who separated us and forbade your coming to the house again. Else, perhaps, there is no knowing I might have been your wife at the present moment. But as for being, as you express it, “desperately in love,” you know that is untrue—that it is not in my nature—that I am not one of your gushing, spooney girls, who are ready to jump down the throat of the first man who looks at them, and never was.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t be too sure of that,’ said Mr Portland. ‘Certain little epistles in my possession tell a different tale. Most of them are “spooney” enough in all conscience. At least, if you do not call them so, I should like to see the ones you do!’
‘You have not returned those letters to me yet,’ she answered quickly. ‘I trust to your honour to do so, without reading them again.’
‘Why should I read them again, ma chère, when they no longer interest me? I know you women like to think you can chuck your victims over, and still keep them writhing at your feet; but I am not one of that sort. Once repulsed is enough for me. Your ladyship need never fear that I shall ever trouble you again. But don’t say you never were one of the “gushing, spooney girls,” or you may tempt me to make you retract your words. Perhaps you have quite forgotten what you wrote in those letters?’ he demanded meaningly.