He considered her in open anger. "If you've come to make a scene, I'll have to let you know that on account of my sister I cannot endure it. Really—" "I'm going to stay here," she echoed, "until I've done talking. I've found the right person. I know that. Tell you what I want? Why, you hate Terry Hollis!"
"Hate—him?" murmured Elizabeth.
"Nonsense!" cried Vance.
"Look at his face, Miss Cornish," said the girl.
"Vance, by everything that's sacred, your eyes were positively shrinking.
Do you hate—him?"
"My dear Elizabeth, if this unknown—"
"You'd better leave," interrupted the girl. "Miss Cornish is going to hear me talk."
Before he could answer, his sister said calmly: "I think I shall, Vance.
I begin to be intrigued."
"In the first place," he blurted angrily, "it's something you shouldn't hear—some talk about a murder—"
Elizabeth sank back in her chair and closed her eyes.