“I don’t want to make you unhappy, Mrs. Kent. If you like, I’ll promise never to see your husband again.”
“Much good your promises will do me. I wouldn’t believe a word you said. I know what society ladies are. We know all about them in the City.”
Basil stepped forward, and again begged Hilda to leave them. He opened the door, and his glance was so appealing that she could not stay; but though keeping her eyes averted, she felt that his besought her not to be angry for the hateful, odious scene to which she had been exposed.
“She’s frightened of me,” Jenny hissed savagely. “She daren’t stand up to me.”
He closed the door, and then turned to his wife. He was pale with rage, but she heeded not.
“What d’you mean by coming here and behaving like this?” he said violently. “You had no right to come at all. What d’you want?”
“I want you. D’you think I didn’t guess what was going on? I’ve been waiting here for hours. I saw people come in, and I saw them go out, and at last I knew you were alone with her.”
“How did you know?”
“I gave the butler a sovereign, and he told me.”
An icy shiver of disgust passed through Basil, and she laughed bitterly when she saw his profound scorn. Then she caught sight of a photograph of Basil which stood on a table near the window, and before he could prevent her, seized it and flung it on the floor, and viciously dug her heel into it.