“You need have no fear. Valérie and I have known one another for years, but only as acquaintances.”
He uttered the words mechanically, in strained, harsh tones.
“I don’t believe it,” cried the other, his face crimson with anger. “You are both playing me false, and I have detected you.”
“You are mistaken,” Valérie said defiantly.
“No; I assert it as the truth. The whole affair is so unsatisfactory that I will not believe it. Friends do not meet clandestinely in this manner. You are lovers!”
“It’s a lie,” cried Valérie emphatically.
“I repeat what I’ve said.”
“Then, if you accuse me of duplicity, Mr Trethowen, I will bid you adieu,” she exclaimed severely, at the same time offering her hand.
He took it, and was mollified instantly.
Bending over it, he murmured—