“Yes; I can recover a great deal, I am sure.”
“And I am to show him how cruelly he has wronged you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“You desire me to do this; you will not trust to your innocence, and the efforts of the counsel?”
“Do you want to drive me mad with your questions?” he cried savagely. “If you decline to go, my lawyer shall see Sir Gordon.”
“Robert!” she said reproachfully, but with the sweet gentleness of her pitying love for the husband irritated, and beyond control of self in his trouble, apparent in her words.
“Well, why do you talk so and hesitate?” he cried petulantly.
“I will go, dear,” she said cheerfully, “and I will plead your cause to the uttermost.”
“Yes, of course. It will be better that you should go. He likes you, Millicent; he always did like you, and I dare say he will listen to you. I don’t know but what it might be wise to knock under to Bayle. But no: I hate that fellow. I always did from the first. Well, leave that now. See Sir Gordon; tell him what I say, that it will be best for the bank. You’ll win. Hang it, Millicent, I could not bear this trial: it would kill me.”
“Robert!”