"You are talking nonsense, Myra," he said harshly, far more perturbed than he cared to confess at the discovery by which the woman's intuition had arrived at the truth.
"You may call it nonsense," she continued wildly, "but there's no blood of yours in Guy's veins——"
Hora checked her. He laid his hand on her shoulder, and though she made an effort to throw off his grip he held her tightly and thrust her down into an easy chair.
"You little fool," he said, "you don't know what you are talking about. Like all women in love you let your imagination run away with you."
She still struggled ineffectually to escape from his grasp while he continued. "Suppose I had other motives than those I have given to you and Guy for desiring that he should live apart from us for a little while, have I ever by any chance done anything which could bring danger upon him? Did it never occur to you that one of my motives had connection with yourself?"
She ceased to struggle. Her hands dropped limply by her side.
"I might have known, I might have known," she cried; "and yet, Commandatore, you promised me that I should have my chance."
Hora saw that he had won the battle. He loosed his grip of Myra's arm and returned to his chair.
The girl rose and following him dropped on her knees before him. The tears were in her eyes and her bosom rose and fell stormily. "You promised me I should have my chance, Commandatore. Don't send Guy away. I cannot bear it. Indeed—indeed, I cannot bear it." Sobs choked her utterance.
Hora allowed her to weep awhile. Then he laid his hand gently on her bowed head.