"Well?"
"I don't _want_ to go, if you must know!" She blurted the answer rudely
and turned away.
"Augusta! Wait!"
"I'm going to the hotel," she flung over her shoulder.
She kept on walking.
"Come back."
Unlatching the gate she flung it open in defiance.
"No!" She seemed like a person obsessed.
Symes arose and walked quickly after her. She stopped then and Symes
wondered at his own self-control as he faced her.
"Augusta," he said quietly, "Dr. Harpe is not coming here again."
He saw her face pale.
"Why not?" Her vehemence startled him.
"Because I have told her not to; she understands."
"How dare you?" Her voice rose shrill and her eyes blazed into his.
"She's my friend!"
"No, she's not your friend or my friend." He grasped her wrist as she
started to go. "You've got to listen; you've got to hear me out! I found
her out to-day and I meant to tell you when we had gone from here, but
you are forcing me to do it now." Still grasping her wrist he told her
briefly of the interview and the price he had paid for her silence. When
he had done she wrenched herself free.
"I don't believe it! Anyway, why shouldn't you give her the contract?
Why shouldn't you? I tell you I'm going to her and you shan't stop me!"
"Augusta!" There was horror in his voice. "Do you realize what this
means? Do you understand what you are doing--that you are choosing
between this woman and me? Are you crazy? Are you mad?"
"Yes, yes, yes! Anything you like, but I'm going! I tell you, you shan't
dictate who and who not shall be my friends!"
"But she isn't your friend!" he cried with savage bitterness. "She's
your worst enemy. Augusta,"--the harshness went suddenly from his
voice--"I beg of you don't let this woman come between us!"
"You're a nice one to criticise others."
He winced at the taunt.
"I've tried to make amends," he pleaded.
"Well--you haven't! And," she flung the challenge at him recklessly,
"if you want to get a divorce, get it, for I'll quit you quick before
I'll give up Dr. Harpe."
She stared into his eyes defiant, unabashed, and in her face he read his
defeat--the utter uselessness and futility of commands, or threats, or
appeals. He loosened his hold of her wrist without a word, and, flinging
him a last glance of angry resentment and defiance, she walked swiftly
toward the hotel.