“Confound you and him together,” said Trent, springing up. “Are these your tools? And you believe him?”
“Yes I do; because the corroboration is exact.”
“I shall expect satisfaction for these insults, Mr Ibbetson.” Oliver’s voice was choked.
“Not really, I think,” Jack said coolly.
“Stop!” interrupted Bice. She stood up, trembling so much that she had to rest her hand on the sofa. Trent’s eyes fell before hers which seemed to blaze with the fire of her indignation. She tried to speak, but the words would not come. “Go away, go!” she said at last with a shudder.
He made a step towards her.
“Bice, my darling, hear me!”
“You could treat Clive like that!”
“Let me explain—”
“Not a word,” she interrupted. She spoke in a strained high voice, but words had come back to her. “You have deceived me from first to last. I have never loved you, but I thought you were good to Clive. Every day of my life I will thank God that He has saved me from becoming your wife. Do you hear? Now go.”