“What do you mean?” He tried to bluster afresh, but the stick shook in his hand. “Confound it, what do you mean?”
“What I say,” she answered firmly. “And it is no use to deny it, for my father knows it. He knows all. He has seen Clement——”
“Clement, eh?” bitterly. “Oh, it’s Clement now, is it?” He was white with rage and chagrin, furious at the failure of his last hope. “It’s that way, is it? You have gone over to that prig, have you? And he’s told you this?”
“Yes.”
“And you believe him?”
“I do.”
“You believe him against me?”
“Yes,” she said, “for it is the truth, Arthur. I know that he would not tell me anything else.”
“And I? Do you mean to say that I would?”
She was silent.