“No,” cried Julia. “I’m not such a coward as to be afraid of you.”
“That you are not,” he said admiringly, in spite of the passion he was in. “Now once more tell me this. I’ll believe you. You never told a lie, and you never would. Is this a sham to back up your father?”
She did not answer, only gave him a haughtily indignant look.
“Do you mean to tell me you don’t know that your father did all that Dixons’ business himself?”
“I know it is false.”
“And that I only did what he told me, and planted the deeds at the different banks?”
“It is false, I tell you.”
“You’re making me savage,” he cried in his blundering way. “I tell you I’m not such a brute. Look here once more. Do you mean to tell me that you don’t know that we have all been living on what he—your father—got from Dixons’ bank?”
“How dare you!” cried Julia, scarlet with anger.
“And that you and your mother brought over the plunder when you came?”