He picked up the knife and smiled at her, his eyes cunning. “Not going to kill him, my dear,” he said. “Merely to give him a hint that I'm not as easy as I was last night.”
That was a slip, and he knew it. Lily had left the window and come forward, a stricken slip of a girl, and he turned to her angrily.
“Go into the other room and close the door,” he ordered. “When I've thrown this fellow out, you can come back.”
But Lily's eyes were fixed on Willy Cameron's face.
“It was you last night?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Willy Cameron said steadily, “he had got a girl into trouble, and then insulted her. I wouldn't tell you, but you've got to know the truth before it's too late.”
Lily threw out both hands dizzily, as though catching for support. But she steadied herself. Neither man moved.
“It is too late, Willy,” she said. “I have just married him.”