“That is my business,” Mrs. Clinton replied.
“I am not allowing any whippersnapper to get ahead of me,” Sir Tresham fumed. “Who has got her? Is it Manville?”
“You know me well enough, Sir Tresham, to be aware that I never give away my clients’ names or discuss their personal business,” Mrs. Clinton replied. “And now, if you will excuse me, I must ask you to leave. If you wish to call upon me again this evening at the proper hour, I shall, of course, try to accommodate you. There is a very pretty young widow I don’t think you have met.”
“I don’t want a pretty young widow,” Sir Tresham bellowed. “I want that girl Candida, and I’m going to have her.”
Mrs. Clinton shook her head and at the same time pulled the bell-rope hanging beside the mantelpiece.
“You are not going to do this to me,”
