Daphne stood up, very slim and straight, gazing stonily into her husband's face.
"Have you buried him?"
"I told one of the gardeners to do so."
"Where?"
"I did not say, but we can——"
"I suppose you know," said Daphne with great deliberation, "that he was the only living creature in all this great house that loved me—really loved me?"
Verily, here was war. There was a tense silence for a moment, and an almost imperceptible flicker of some emotion passed over Juggernaut's face. Then he said, with equal deliberation—
"Without any exception?"
"Yes, without any exception!" cried poor Daphne, stabbing passionately in the dark. "And since he is dead," she added—"since you have killed him—I am going home to Dad and the boys! They love me!"
She stood before her husband with her head thrown back defiantly, white and trembling with passion.