The girl sprang indignantly to her feet.
"I've done nothing of the sort, Mrs. Norton. How dare you say so? You've no right to speak to me as you're doing."
The older woman sat back coolly in her chair and laughed; but her eyes grew hard.
"Oh yes, I have, my dear girl. You two were the talk of Darjeeling before I came. Of course you're angry, naturally, at failing to catch him, but I'm going to put a stop to your trying, here and now. He has got to break with you."
"You are a wicked woman," began the girl; and then indignation choked her.
Mrs. Norton leant forward in her chair.
"Can you deny that you're in love with him?" she asked.
Wargrave tried to interpose; but the girl waved him aside and faced her rival.
"I'll answer you. I am. I love him as you could never do. I was willing to give him up to you—for he loves me, not you—so that he should not be false to his word. I didn't know what you were like, then. But now I don't believe you'd ever make him happy. You don't love him—you haven't got it in you. You wouldn't be content with any one man. I've watched you. You're absolutely heartless; and you'd only make Frank miserable. You're willing to disgrace him as well as yourself. You don't mind if you ruin him. Frank——"
She turned towards Wargrave.