She gave him a scornful look.
“Are you fool, or make fun of me?” she cried fiercely. “Bah, I am too much angry. Is there a lady here?”
“No, I should think not, but we could easily find out. If he has, it is too bad, owing me so much as he does. No, I don’t think so; stop—yes I do. By Jingo, it’s too bad. That’s why he did not want to take me out in his yacht.”
“What do you mean?” said the woman searchingly.
“If there is one, madame—if he is married, she is aboard his yacht, and yonder they go—no, they don’t; they’re out of sight.”
There was so much reality in Gellow’s delivery of this speech, that his vis-à-vis was completely hoodwinked. She tried to pass it off with a laugh, but the compression of her lips, the contraction about her eyes, all showed the jealous rage she was in; and it was only by giving one foot a fierce stamp on the carpet, and by walking quickly to the window, that she could keep herself from shrieking aloud.
“Well, madame,” said Gellow, “you are getting all right again.”
“Oh, yais; I am getting all right.”
“And you can do without my services?”
“Oh, yais.”