“I shall say what I think right,” he said. “I shall take time to consider what I shall say; I won't be hurried by this ruffian.”
Mrs. Pendyce wiped her lips with her lace-edged handkerchief.
“I hope you will show me the letter,” she said.
The Squire looked at her, and he realised that she was trembling and very white, and, though this irritated him, he answered almost kindly:
“It's not a matter for you, my dear.”
Mrs. Pendyce took a step towards him; her gentle face expressed a strange determination.
“He is my son, Horace, as well as yours.”
Mr. Pendyce turned round uneasily.
“It's no use your getting nervous, Margery. I shall do what's best. You women lose your heads. That d——d fellow's lying! If he isn't——”
At these words the spaniel John rose from his corner and advanced to the middle of the floor. He stood there curved in a half-circle, and looked darkly at his master.