"How should I?" he asked, startled.
"Why should you not?" she mimicked. "Julius, do not try to beat about the bush with me. I am in desperate earnest. I will not be put off by lies and evasions! You have seen Elaine Brooke's portrait; therefore you must have recognized the face in Irene's locket as hers."
"And if I did?" he asked, sullenly.
"You must have guessed at the girl's name. You could not have helped it. It is written on her face. You know whom she is, but you are trying to deceive me. You know that you are," she said, passionately.
He saw that he had to deal with a passionate, jealous woman, and that his game was all up, so far as concealment of his plans was concerned.
"I shall be forced to admit what I cannot deny," he told himself, grimly.
Aloud, he asked, in a tone of forced suavity: "Whom do you say that the girl is, Mrs. Stuart?"
She bent toward him and answered in a hissing whisper of anger and hate:
"She is the daughter of Clarence Stuart and his first wife, Elaine Brooke."
A cry of dismay and surprise came from his lips.