She looked away, turning white, but there was that in her could disdain the lie fear prompted.
“Yes,” she answered.
“By Heaven!” cried Sir John softly; he came a little nearer. “Did you inform her of anything?”
Her eyes met his with a full look of aversion.
“What is the object of this?” she asked. “Why do you take this manner to me?”
His eye caught a letter lying by the bird-cage, and the sight of it reminded him of the Viscount’s second accusation.
“To whom do you write?” he demanded.
She caught the letter up and rose.
“To Mr. Wharton,” she answered.
“Give it to me,” flashed Sir John with a step forward.