"Yes," she said. "You daren't refuse me. I know too much."
The assurance in her voice warned the girl that this was no hysterical vapouring, but a challenge. She answered her bravely, maintaining an outward calm.
"I am sorry I cannot do as you wish," she said.
How lovely the woman was, with her angry flush, and her long-lashed eyes. How recklessly she spoke. Some theatrical impulse in her had overridden prudence; whoever liked might have heard her.... With that odd irrelevance that keeps the mind steady under fire Susan was wondering who it was that had said—"Yes, she's a beauty, but the back of her neck is common——"
"You have no right to keep us apart," said Julia. "I've been patient ... but this is too much! After all I'm not stone; I'm a woman—With all the world gabbling about you and your devotion—! I daresay you think you are getting an influence over him. Poor Barnaby—! All this while you have had him at your mercy!"
She fixed her eyes on Susan with an indescribable stare of scorn.
"Will you take me to him?" she said.
"I will not," said Susan.
Julia came nearer. They were practically alone. Macdonald was putting rugs in the motor.
"I believe you are fond of him," she said ruthlessly. "Fond of him! You the cheat, you the impostor—!"