"Sorrow, madam! I never said a word about sorrow. I said I thought you cared for me, and I don't think so now. I am sure you don't, and I care just as little for you, not a pin, madam, with your ridiculous airs."
"Very good, dear—then I suppose you are quite satisfied with your former conduct?"
"Perfectly—of course I am, and if I had had a notion what kind of person you are I should not have come near you, I promise you."
Lady Alice smiled a patient smile, which somehow rather provoked the indignant penitent.
"I'd as soon have put my hand in the fire, madam. I've borne too much from you—a great deal too much; it is you who should have come to me, madam, and I don't care a farthing about you."
"And I'm still under sentence, I presume, when General Lennox, returns with his horsewhip," suggested Lady Alice, meekly.
"It would do you nothing but good."
"You are excessively impertinent," said Lady Alice, a little losing her self-command.
"So are you, madam."
"And I desire you'll leave my room," pursued Lady Alice.