She made a swift gesture. “For your sake I am pleased—very pleased—that you have left the Police, and have made money. But, Randolph,” and though she was frightened at the suppressed vehemence in his voice, and the almost fierce look of his dark, deep-set eyes, she smiled as she put her hand on his, “please don't think that—that—money, I mean—would make any difference to me. Come, let us go back to father. I am sure he wants you to play chess.”
Aulain's face terrified her. He had lost control of himself, and his hand closed around her wrist.
“So you throw me over?” he said in almost savage tones.
“'Throw you over'! How dare you say such a thing to me!” and she tore her hand away from him, and faced him with blazing anger in her eyes. “What have I ever said or done that you can speak to me like this?”
“I know who has come between us——”
“Between us! What do you mean?” she cried scornfully. “What has there ever been 'between us'? And who do you mean?”
Aulian's face whitened with the anger of jealousy, and he gave full vent to the unreasoning passion which had now overmastered him.
“I mean Gerrard.”
“Mr Gerrard—your friend?” she said slowly.
“Yes,” he replied with a sneer; “my dear friend Gerrard—the man who, professing to be my friend, has steadily undermined me in your regard ever since he first saw you.”