The girl burst into a mocking laugh.
'What, you also hold me cheap, think there is nothing in me beside you—beside you—to love?'
'On the contrary,' answered Salome, crimsoning to the roots of her hair, 'I am nothing, nothing at all; ignorant, foolish, fresh, and green, as you say—and you are so beautiful, so clever, so experienced. I am nothing whatever in comparison with you, but then Philip, I mean my husband, you know could not love you more than me, because I am his wife.'
'Oh!' There was a depth of mockery in the tone.
Then up stood Miss Durham again, and as Salome also rose, the stranger seized her by the shoulders, and held her at arm's length from her, and said:
'Shall I go, or shall I stay? Shall I run away, or——'
'You shall not run away. I will clasp you in my arms and stay you,' exclaimed Salome, and suited the action to the word.
Miss Durham loosed herself from her almost roughly.
'It were better for both that I should go.'
Again she went to the window to gasp for air. She saw Philip still before the eagle's cage—straight, stiff, and every inch a mercantile man. Her lip curled.