Boulte answered, more to himself than the questioner: 'My wife
came over to Mrs. Vansuythen's just now; and it seems you'd been
telling Mrs. Vansuythen that you'd never cared for Emma. I
suppose you lied, as usual. What had Mrs. Vansuythen to do with
you, or you with her? Try to speak the truth for once in a way.'

Kurrell took the double insult without wincing, and replied by
another question: 'Go on. What happened?'

'Emma fainted,' said Boulte simply. 'But, look here, what had you
been saying to Mrs. Vansuythen?'

Kurrell laughed. Mrs. Boulte had, with unbridled tongue, made
havoc of his plans; and he could at least retaliate by hurting the
man in whose eyes he was humiliated and shown dishonourable.

'Said to her? What does a man tell a lie like that for? I suppose I
said pretty much what you've said, unless I'm a good deal
mistaken.'

'I spoke the truth,' said Boulte, again more to himself than Kurrell.
'Emma told me she hated me. She has no right in me.'

'No! I suppose not. You're only her husband, y'know. And what did
Mrs. Vansuythen say after you had laid your disengaged heart at
her feet?'

Kurrell felt almost virtuous as he put the question.