“But how do you know that? You assume a great deal, Adela.”
“Do you know anything about him?”
“Suppose I were to ask you questions in my turn?”
“Questions? But I have told you—”
“Yes, you have told me certain things, but you have explained nothing. You seem to expect everything from me. Am I not to expect anything from you?”
“Anything! But what?”
“An explanation, surely.”
Lady Sellingworth was silent. She was still standing. The two spots of red still glowed in her white face. Her eyes looked like the eyes of one who was in dread. They had lost their usual expression of self-command, and resembled the eyes of a creature being hunted. Miss Van Tuyn saw that and wondered. A fierce animosity woke in her and made her more obstinate, more determined to get at the truth of this mystery. She would not leave this house until light was given to her. She had a strong will. It was now fully roused, and she was ready to pit it against Adela’s will. And she had another weapon in her armoury. She was now very angry, with an anger which she did not fully understand, and which was made up of several elements. One of these elements was certainly passion. This anger rendered her merciless.
“Well, Adela?” she said at length, as Lady Sellingworth did not speak.
“What is it you want, Beryl?” said Lady Sellingworth, looking into her eyes and then quickly away.