“And what have I to do with you, pray?” cried Hugh’s wife, drawing herself up to her full height, and standing erect before them. “It is gross impudence for a woman of such reputation as yourself to claim my acquaintance. I do not forget what you were in Paris.”
“Oh, indeed!” replied mademoiselle. “Before you asperse my character, think of your own.”
“Who dares to defame me?” she asked indignantly.
“I do,” declared mademoiselle.
This bold reply caused the colour to flee from her cheeks, for the object of their visit began to dawn upon her.
“I have come here, madame,” continued Gabrielle, “to bring your lost husband before you, so that he may hear the true story of your perfidy; I have—”
“By Heaven! I’ll strangle you!” Valérie hissed, stepping forward threateningly, with clenched hands and flashing eyes.
The two women were, however, separated by the writing-table.
“First, listen to what I have to say,” the other replied coolly. “I alone know the truth, and it is useless to protest your innocence or deny your guilt—”
“The truth of what?”