'I don't quite see your meaning, Dorcas. I can't understand how your pride has been hurt; but if Stanley had any, I can well imagine what torture it must have endured; wretched, wicked, punished fool!'
'You suspect what they fought about, Radie!'
Rachel made no answer.
'You do, Radie, and why do you dissemble with me?'
'I don't dissemble; I don't care to speak; but if you will have me say so, I do suspect—I think it must have originated in jealousy of you.'
'You look, Radie, as if you thought I had managed it—whereas I really did not care.'
'I do not understand you, Dorcas; but you appear to me very cruel, and you smile, as I say so.'
'I smile, because I sometimes think so myself.'
With a fixed and wrathful stare Rachel returned the enigmatical gaze of her beautiful cousin.
'If Stanley dies, Dorcas, Sir Harry Bracton shall hear of it. I'll lose my life, but he shall pay the forfeit of his crime.'