“On the contrary,” said Edith, contemptuously, “it has been my fortune, or my misfortune, to understand from the first both you and Wiggins.”
Leon gave a light laugh.
“Your temper,” said he, “has not improved much, at any rate. That's quite evident. You have always shown a very peculiar idea of the way in which a lady should speak to a gentleman.”
“One would suppose by that,” said Edith, “that you actually meant to hint that you considered yourself a gentleman.”
“So I am,” said Leon, haughtily.
“As you have no particular birth or family,” said Edith, in her most insolent tone, “I suppose you must rest your claims to be a gentleman altogether on your good manners and high-toned character.”
“Birth and family!” exclaimed Leon, excitedly, “what do you know about them! You don't know what you're talking about.”
“I know nothing about you, certainly,” said Edith. “I suppose you are some mere adventurer.”
Leon looked at her for a moment with a glance of intense rage; and as she calmly returned his gaze, she noticed that peculiarity of his frowning brow a red spot in the middle, with deep lines.
“You surely in your wildest dreams,” said she, “never supposed that I took you for a gentleman.”