She pushed her head a little forward, and her eyes shone with malice.
"I should have thought that the revelations of this afternoon would have——"
Collingwood recognised the change of attitude in a moment.
"Closed these doors to those who planned the trip to Paris—yes?"
"I was not thinking of the trip to Paris," she said.
Collingwood shrugged his shoulders. "Because we were partners in that, of course," he replied.
"Partners!" she cried shrilly. "I knew nothing about it. It was you who gave the orders to the porter and booked the rooms—I don't come in anywhere!"
Collingwood folded his arms and stood with his feet somewhat apart, looking down upon her with a face which, in its contempt and strength, once more drove her into an extremity of fear.
When he spoke again his voice had lost its bitterness and contempt, but it had become harsh and imperative. It was the voice of a bullying counsel in the courts—the voice in which a low man speaks to a servant.
"That is your game, is it?" he said. "You never knew of the trip to Paris?"