“You can look at me till to-morrow morning and it won’t help you,” said Trampy quietly, with the air of a man who has prepared his speech. “I’ve got you this time! I sent the telegram; I knew you’d come, wherever he thought fit to meet you; you’d have come for less than Jimmy; you’d have come for the impersonator or any one else, never mind whom; any one in the rotten lot, any gentleman in the front boxes, eh? It’s ‘Whistle and I’ll come to you, my lad!’ with you! But I thought Jimmy would do best, Jimmy your lover, whom you followed to London. Now my luck has brought me here, too ... for my work ... not like you! And, by the way, Miss Lily, have you brought me that thousand marks which you got from Jimmy and which I was going to give back to him, when you stole it out of my pocket? Or did you spend it on the way here? You hadn’t a rag to your back, when you left me, and I find you dressed up like a Tottie. My compliments, Miss Lily.”
“O God, strike him dead!” prayed Lily. “Strike him, kill him, kill him!”
Lily felt like fainting. She could not breathe, her ribs seemed to be crushing her lungs. At last she drew a long, slow breath:
“Well,” she stammered, overcome with shame, “well, we can be divorced ... if you like.”
“I’ll see,” said Trampy, hardening his voice and throwing away his cigar. “Go back to your Jimmy in the meantime. You may be sure I have no use for a traitress like you, an idler who refuses to work, a woman who lets every man make love to her!” And, suddenly, pointing to the stairs, “You can be sure that I’ve no further use for you! Get out of this, damn you! And you’re not going, mind you: I’m kicking you out!”
And therewith Trampy went back into his room and slammed the door in her face.
Mrs. Clifton and Lily remained glued where they were. At last, Ma, trembling all over, rose from the bench and led away her daughter, who shook her fist at the door, crying:
“Liar!”
“Why didn’t you speak just now, my poor Lily?” said Ma. “You ought to have answered back! So it’s true, all that? A nice thing! You, who pretended....”
“Oh, let go, you’re crushing my sleeve!” retorted Lily angrily, pulling her arm away from the hand that clasped it.