“What do you want here with me, Clara Kingscott?” he growled out, as he cowered from her fixed gaze of hate. “What do you want now, for God’s sake! I paid you, at all events!”
“What do I want, Allynne Markworth? I wanted to see you caged at last, villain! and now I’m satisfied!”
“Well, you’ve seen me now, so you may go away and be happy! But I don’t know why you hate me so, I’m sure; I don’t owe you any money at all events!”
“Money, money, money! that has always been the burden of your song—and now you see its worth!”
“I know it would take me out of here; that’s what I know!” he replied, with a faint attempt at a jocular laugh—it was a very faint one.
“Would it? Do you know who put you here?”
“Solomonson, I suppose; my worthy friend to whom I am slightly indebted. I don’t think he’ll get his money, though; for I am hanged if I don’t go through ‘the Court.’” He laughed, still keeping up appearances.
The governess went on, however, in her cold grating voice, without apparently noticing his interruption.
“I placed you here!” she said, with bitter emphasis. “I got you arrested. I knew that you came to those lodgings last night! I have been watching for you for weeks; and I went down this morning to those attorneys, and told them where you were. I would have gone last night if it had not been so late! You have got to thank me for your arrest!”
“You! you she devil! Why, what on earth have I done to you?” he exclaimed, in astonishment.