"You must know that I am
engaged to Miss Saxon!"
"You will never marry her--never!" cried Maraquito
passionately; "oh, cruel man, can you not see that I am dying
of love for you."
"Maraquito--"
"If I were not chained to this couch," she said between her
teeth, "I should go after her and throw vitriol in her face.
I would give her cause to repent having lured you from me with
her miserable doll's face. Pah! the minx!"
Cuthbert grew really angry. "How dare you speak like this?"
he said. "If you were able to attack Miss Saxon in the vile
way you say, I should show you no mercy."
"What would you do--what would you do?" she panted.
"Put you in jail. That sort of thing may do abroad but we
don't allow it here. I thought you were merely a foolish
woman. Now I know you are bad and wicked."
"Cuthbert--Cuthbert."
"My name is Mallow to you, Senora Gredos. I'll go now and
never see you again. I was foolish to come here."
"Wait--wait," she cried savagely, "it is just as well that
you are here--just as well that we should come to an
understanding."
"There can be no understanding. I marry Miss Saxon and--"
"Never, never, never! Listen, I can ruin her--"
"What do you mean?"
"Her brother--"
"Oh, Basil, I know all about that."
Maraquito threw herself back on her couch, evidently baffled.
"What do you know?" she demanded sullenly.
"That you are about to accuse him of the death of Miss Loach.
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