same reason," he rejoined in a low, savage voice.

"You do not treat me well," she said, with a voice that betrayed no hurt,
no indignation. It seemed to state a fact deliberately; that was all.

"No, please," she added quickly, as she saw him rise to his feet with
anger trembling at his lips. "Do not say what is on your tongue to say.
Let us speak quietly to-night. It is better; and I am tired of strife,
spoken and unspoken. I have got beyond that. But I want to speak of
what you did to-day in Parliament."

"Well, you have said it was wicked and unpatriotic," he rejoined, sitting
down again and lighting a cigar, in an attempt to be composed.

"What you said was that; but I am concerned with what you did. Did your
speech mean that you would not press the Egyptian Government to relieve
Claridge Pasha at once?"

"Is that the conclusion you draw from my words?" he asked.

"Yes; but I wish to know beyond doubt if that is what you mean the
country to believe?"

"It is what I mean you to believe, my dear."

She shrank from the last two words, but still went on quietly, though her
eyes burned and she shivered. "If you mean that you will do nothing, it
will ruin you and your Government," she answered. "Kimber was right,
and--"