"Pretty love!" the big man said. "I have finished with it and with her."
Again there came a wild cry from the trembling woman. "George, for God's sake!"
Now for the first time a look of fear came into Collingwood's eyes. "You mean to cast her off?" he said—"to break her spirit? No—no—you dare not do it. You don't know what you are saying—you have no right...."
"That's for the court to decide," Admaston answered.
Peggy tried to step up to him, but he motioned her not to advance further.
"Court!" she wailed. "No, George, not that! I have done nothing, George, to forfeit your love!"
"Stop! You don't realise how much I know. I saw a letter at the house yesterday before four o'clock. It told me everything you intended to do—everything you have done. That letter brought me over after you. I sent a detective to Boulogne to meet you."
Peggy shook with fear. "That man?" she whispered to herself, with a light of horror in her eyes.
"Yes," Admaston said. "I sent him. He followed you to this hotel. He was here last night. He is in the hotel now. He has given me this report, and it leaves no doubt as to your guilt."
"My guilt! It is not true, George—I swear to you it is not true. I don't care what you have done, or what letters or reports you have received. I am your wife. I didn't love you at first—you knew that—I was honest, I told you all—but now...."