“Well?”
“Some one you know—a woman.”
“A woman? Lady Ingleton?”
“No; your wife.”
The fingers which held her wrist became suddenly cold, but they still pressed firmly upon her flesh.
“That’s a lie!” he said hoarsely.
“It isn’t!”
“How dare you tell me such a lie?”
He bent and gazed into her eyes.
“Liar! Liar!”