'Well?'
'And he died like a gentleman, upholding the honour of Queen and country, and the name of Cameron,' said Eveline, a little defiantly.
'Bosh! I suppose he was paid for all that? But enough of this. May I ask, have you no home interests and home ties like other married women?'
Eveline made no reply; so, with a violent jerk of his head, Sir Paget spoke again.
'Listen to me, Lady Puddicombe.'
'I am doing so.'
'To me you seem like one of those oddities or evil spirits one reads of only in novels.'
'How?'
'Having had a romance in your life, or fancying you had one, and believing you have married the wrong man, and all that sort of stuff, you like to live and brood on a memory. Is it so, Lady Puddicombe? Answer me—did you actually love this fellow Cameron?'
'Yes,' she replied, wincing, as he laid his coarse hand rather roughly on her delicate shoulder.