“I have heard of Miss West,” he said, and in his manner Katherine’s quick instinct read strong preconceived disapprobation.
“And, Katherine,” continued her father, “this is Mr. Bruce.”
She stopped short.
“Mr. Bruce of the Express?”
“Of the Express,” Bruce calmly repeated.
Her dejected figure grew suddenly tense, and her cheeks glowed with hot colour. She moved up before the editor and gazed with flashing eyes into his square-jawed face.
“So you are the man who wrote those brutal things about father?”
He bristled at her hostile tone and manner, and there was a quick snapping behind the heavy glasses.
“I am the man who wrote those true things about your father,” he said with cold emphasis.
“And after that you dare come into this house!”