The Duchess maintained her self-control. She was quite pale, however, and
her tone was growing ominously harder.

"Is she a connection of yours?"

"No!"

"Is there anything which you could tell me about her?"

"No!"

"Yet at her bidding you have done--what you refused me."

"I had no choice! Borrowdean saw to that," he remarked, bitterly.

She rose to her feet. She was pale, and her lips were quivering, but she
was splendidly handsome.

"What sort of a man are you, Lawrence Mannering?" she asked, steadily.
"You play at idealism, you asked me to marry you. Yet all the time there
was this background."

"It was madness," he admitted. "But remember it was Mrs. Handsell whom I
asked to be my wife."

"What difference does that make? She was a woman, too, I suppose, to be
honoured--or insulted--by your choice!"

"There was no question of insult, I think."