“Jennings is a gentleman in spite of his profession,” said Mallow in cutting tones.  “I scarcely think he would take so great a liberty.”

“Is it a liberty?” asked Maraquito softly.

“I consider it to be one.  Jennings knows that I am engaged.”

“Stop!” she cried, gripping her fan so tightly that her knuckles grew white.  “Do you dare to tell me this?”

“Senora—­Maraquito—­don’t let us have a scene.  I told you before that I could not give you the love you asked.”

“And I told you that I would have that love in spite of your unwillingness,” said the woman doggedly.  “You have scorned me, and I ought to have sufficient pride to let you go your own way.  But I am such an infatuated fool that I am content to let you tread on me.”

“I have no wish to do that, but—­”

“You do—­you do—­you do!” she said, vehemently.  “Why can you not love me?  I would be a better wife than that doll you—­”

“Drop that, Maraquito.  Leave Miss Saxon’s name out of the question.”

“I shall talk of Miss Saxon as long as I like,” cried Maraquito, snapping the fan and growing flushed.  “You scorn me because I am an invalid—­”

“I do not.  If you were perfectly restored to health I would give you the same answer.”  Mallow was on his feet by this time.  “I think it would be wise of me to go.”

But Senora Gredos, stretching out her hand, caught him by the coat convulsively.  “No! no! no!” she muttered fiercely.  “I did not ask you to come here.  I did not send for you.  But now that you are here, you will stop.  We must understand one another.”

“We do understand one another,” said Cuthbert, who was growing angry at this unreasonable attitude.  “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—­”