As I was still tongue-tied, she returned to her point with resolute
insistence.
"Come, Colonel Annesley, how long is this to go on? I want and will
have an explanation. Why have you formed such a bad opinion of me?"
"How do you know I have done so?" I tried to fence and fight with her,
but in vain.
"I cannot be mistaken. I myself heard you tell my maid that you wished
to have nothing to say to us, that we were not your sort. Well! why is
that? How do I differ from the rest of--your world, let us call it?"
"You do not, as far as I can see. At least you ought to hold your own
anywhere, in any society, the very best."
"And yet I'm not 'your sort.' Am I a humbug, an impostor, an
adventuress, a puppet and play-actress? Or is it that I have
forfeited my right, my rank of gentlewoman, my position in the world,
your world?"
I was silent, moodily, obstinately silent. She had hit the blot, and
could put but one interpretation upon it. I saw she guessed I knew
something. Not how much, perhaps, but something to her discredit. She
still was not satisfied; she would penetrate my reserve, overcome my
reticence, have it out of me willy nilly, whether I would or no.
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