His large full eyes, from under his projecting brows, stared full upon her shrinking gaze as he asked this question in tones deep and firm, but otherwise as civil as he could employ.
It was vain for Mrs. Gwynn to attempt to conceal her extreme agitation. Her countenance showed it—she tried to speak, and failed; and cleared her throat, and broke down again.
"Perhaps you'd like some water," said Varbarriere, rising and approaching the bell.
"No," said Donica Gwynn, rising suddenly and getting before him. "Let be."
He saw that she wished to escape observation.
"As you please, Mrs. Gwynn—sit down again—I shan't without your leave—and recover a little."
"There's nothing wrong with me, sir," replied Donica, now in possession of her voice, very angrily; "there's nothing to cause it."
"Well, Mrs. Gwynn, it's quite excusable; I know all about it."
"What are you, a builder or a hartist?"
"Nothing of the kind; I'm a gentleman without a profession, Mrs. Gwynn, and one who will not permit you to be compromised; one who will protect you from the slightest suspicion of anything unpleasant."