The reply was like a slap in the face.
"I acted for him in any way at all that he wished me to," Kitty answered,
with quiet boldness and shining, defiant face.
Mona's hand fell away from the green baize desk, and her eyes again lost
their sight for a moment. Kitty was not savage by nature. She had been
goaded as much by the thought of the letter Crozier's wife had written to
him in the hour of his ruin as by the presence of the woman in this
house, where things would never be as they had been before. She had
struck hard, and now she was immediately sorry for it: for this woman was
here in response to her own appeal; and, after all, she might well be
jealous of the fact that Crozier had had close to him for so long and in
such conditions a girl like herself, younger than his own wife, and
prettier--yes, certainly prettier, she admitted to herself.
"He is that kind of a man. What he asked for, any good woman could give
and not be sorry," Kitty convincingly added when the knife had gone deep
enough.
"Yes, he was that kind of a man," responded the other gently now, and
with a great sigh of relief. Suddenly she came nearer and touched
Kitty's arm. "And thank you for saying so," she added. "He and I have
been so long parted, and you have seen so much more of him than I have of
late years! You know him better--as he is.
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