“He permitted himself to sneer at you?”
“He has the art of sneering. On this occasion he wished to be direct and personal.”
“What sort of hints were they?”
Lord Romfrey strode away from her chair that the answer might be easy to her, for she was red, and evidently suffering from shame as well as indignation.
“The hints we call distinct.” said Rosamund.
“In words?”
“In hard words.”
“Then you won’t meet Cecil?”
Such a question, and the tone of indifference in which it came, surprised and revolted her so that the unreflecting reply leapt out:
“I would rather meet a devil.”