They are
mine,--give them back to me!'
"'Listen, woman,' I said sternly, 'you are lying--or dreaming. My
brother-in-law's papers are doubtless in his safe at his office, where
they ought to be. As for the rest,--you are a thief.'
"'I am not,' she screamed; 'I am his wife. He married me, and the papers
that were in the desk will prove it.'
"'Listen,' I exclaimed, when she had finished,--'listen carefully, and
take heed to what I say. You are a liar. You have no proofs,--there
never were any proofs of what you say, because it never happened,--it is
absurd upon the face of it. Not one person in Wellington would believe
it. Why should he marry you? He did not need to! You are merely
lying,--you are not even self-deceived. If he had really married you,
you would have made it known long ago. That you did not is proof that
your story is false.'
"She was hit so hard that she trembled and sank into a chair. But I had
no mercy--she had saved your father from _me_--'dear Julia,' indeed!
"'Stand up,' I ordered. 'Do not dare to sit down in my presence. I have
you on the hip, my lady, and will teach you your place.'
"She struggled to her feet, and stood supporting herself with one hand
on the chair. I could have killed her, Olivia! She had been my father's
slave; if it had been before the war, I would have had her whipped to
death.
"'You are a thief,' I said, 'and of that there _are_ proofs. I have
caught you in the act. The watch in your bosom is my own, the money
belongs to Mr.
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