He hesitated a moment. 'I ask you not to deny what you have seen—what you feel to be true.'
'Then of the abominations of which you say you have proof, you haven't proof.'
'Why haven't I proof?'
'If you want me to come forward!'
'I shall go into court with a strong case. You may do what you like. But I give you notice and I expect you not to forget that I have given it. Don't forget—because you'll be asked—that I have told you to-night where she is and with whom she is and what measures I intend to take.'
'Be asked—be asked?' the girl repeated.
'Why, of course you'll be cross-examined.'
'Oh, mother, mother!' cried Laura Wing. Her hands were over her face again and as Lionel Berrington, opening the door, let her pass, she burst into tears. He looked after her, distressed, compunctious, half-ashamed, and he exclaimed to himself—'The bloody brute, the bloody brute!' But the words had reference to his wife.