"And you own, then, you are not the man who carried me off before?" said Mollie. "You are not the man Mr. Rashleigh married?"
"I swear I'm not!" cried the doctor, with an earnestness there was no mistaking. "And I'm very thankful I'm not. I wouldn't lead the life I've led for the past two weeks for all the women alive. I'm glad you're here, and that the whole thing is knocked in the head."
He spoke with the dogged recklessness of a man goaded to desperation. Mollie turned again to her guardian and laid her face on his shoulder.
"Send that man away, guardy. His presence in the room turns me sick to death."
"I am going, Miss Dane," said Dr. Oleander, turning moodily to the door, "and I shall not go to Cuba. I shall not quit New York. Let you or your guardian prosecute me if you dare!"
He stalked out with the last words. No one moved or spoke until the house-door banged after him.
Then Mme. Blanche, seeing all was lost, gave one horrible scream, clasped her hands over her head, and fell back in violent hysterics.
"Ring for her maid, guardy," said Mollie. "You had best take her up to her room. Sir Roger, Mr. Ingelow, please to remain. Mr. Sardonyx, excuse me, but you have heard all that it is necessary you should hear."
The lawyer became angry-red, but turned at once to go.
"I have no wish to pry into your very extraordinary secrets or escapades, Miss Dane," he said, haughtily. "Permit me to wish you good-evening."