"Not for a minute," she went on, without heeding him. "And you had no right to say that to me."
"What?" he demanded.
"What you said. My husband loved me with all the strength of a noble, high-minded man, and notwithstanding the difference in our ages, treated me as his equal; and I loved him--yes, loved him devotedly," she said, as she saw a spark come into his eyes.
"You love some one else now," he said coolly.
It might have been anger that brought the rush of color to her face. She turned and looked him full in the face.
"If I do, it is not you."
The arrow went home. His eyes snapped with anger.
"You took such lofty ground just now that I should hardly have supposed the attentions of Mr. Wentworth meant anything so serious. I thought that was mere friendship."
This time there was no doubt that the color meant anger.
"What do you mean?" she demanded, looking him once more full in the eyes.