"Can't come now," he answered. "I'm in a hurry."
It seemed he was; or he wished to avoid further discussion, for when he appeared a few minutes later--long minutes to Sophia, waiting and listening in the outer room--he snatched up his hat and malacca and made for the door. "I can't stop now," he cried, and he waived her off as he raised the latch. "I shall be back in an hour--in an hour, and if you like to behave yourself, you--you may be at it. Though you re not very fine, I'm bound to say!" he concluded with a grudging glance. Doubtless he was comparing her draggled sacque and unpowdered hair with the anticipated splendours of his bride. He was so fine himself, he seemed to fill the little room with light.
"Oh, but, Tom, one minute!" she cried, following him and seizing his arm. "Have a little patience, I only want to tell you one thing."
"Well, be quick about it," he answered, ungraciously, his hand still on the latch. "And whatever you do, miss, keep your tongue off her, or it will be the worse for you. I'll not have my wife miscalled," he continued, looking grand, and a trifle sulky, "as you'll have to learn, my lady."
"But she is not your wife yet," Sophia protested earnestly. "And, Tom, she only wants you to pay her debts. She only wants a husband to pay her debts. She was arrested yesterday."
"Arrested!" he exclaimed.
"Yes," Sophia answered; and then, beginning to flounder, "at least, I mean," she stammered, "I was arrested--in her place. That is to say, on a writ against her."
"You were arrested on a writ against her!" Tom cried again. "On a writ against Oriana? You must be mad! Mad, girl! Why, you've never seen her in your life. You did not know her name!" He had not heard, it will be remembered, a word of her adventures on the way to Davies Street, and the statement she had just made seemed to him the wanton falsehood of a foolish girl bent on mischief. "Oh, this is too bad!" he continued, shaking her off in a rage. "How dare you, you little vixen? You cowardly little liar!" he added, pale with anger. And he raised his hand as if he would strike her.
She recoiled. "Don't hurt me, Tom," she cried.
"I'll not! but--but you deserve it, you little snake!" he retorted. "You are bad! You are bad right through!" he continued from a height of righteous indignation. "What you did yesterday was nothing in comparison to this! You let me hear another word against her, make up another of your lies, and you are no sister of mine! That's all! So now you know, and if you are wise you will not try it again!"