Calladine started forward with a detaining hand.
“No, Clare, you can’t see this man,—let me speak to him first,—at least it’s not right, not safe, for you to see him.”
“And he says he must speak to Mrs. Calladine alone, sir,” Mrs. Quince put in.
“Of course I shall see him,” said Clare.
Calladine grew agitated. “Mrs. Quince, you need not wait; please leave the room. Now, Clare, understand: it is against my wishes that you see this man. Let me go down and find out what he wants, and then if I find that he is quiet and reasonable I will allow you to interview him in my presence. He has probably come to beg, in which case I can give him a few shillings as well as you can, and send him away.”
Clare faced him. “Please let me pass, Richard; I am sorry to do anything against your wishes, but I intend to speak to Olver,—and alone.”
“Let me make myself quite clear: it is not only against my wishes, but, since my wishes fail to touch you, also against my orders.”
“I am sorry, Richard, but I mean what I said.”
He blustered; she remained quiet; in their first encounter he was no match for her.