She spoke with hesitation, at moments with difficulty, as if seeking to gain time, to find answers for his awkward questions. But she did not deceive him. Brockton was too much the man of the world to be easily hoodwinked. He knew she was lying, and his face flushed with anger. "How soon do you expect him back?" he demanded. "Quite soon," she replied, with an effort to be calm. "I don't know just exactly how long he'll be." She turned her back and proceeded with her packing. He came nearer and stood overlooking the trunk. "And you mean to tell me that you kept your promise and told him the truth?" he persisted. She stammered confusedly, and then, her patience exhausted, she broke out into open defiance. "What business have you got to ask me that? What business have you got to interfere, anyway?" Rising and going to the bed in the alcove, she took the dresses and carried them to the sofa. Brockton followed her, his fists clenched. "Then you've lied again!" he cried furiously. "You lied to him, and you just tried to lie to me now. You're not particularly clever at it, although I don't doubt but that you've had considerable practice." With a contemptuous shrug of his shoulders, he walked over to the chair at the table and sat down, still holding his hat in his hand, and without removing his overcoat. Laura came back laden with more things. Seeing Brockton sitting, she stopped, and, turning on him, laid the dresses down. "What are you going to do?" she demanded. "Sit down here and rest a few moments; maybe longer," he replied coolly. She looked at him in dismay. "You can't do that!" she exclaimed. "I don't see why not. This is my own place." "But don't you see that he'll come back here soon and find you here?" "That's just exactly what I want him to do." Laura looked at him helplessly. With suppressed emotion, almost on the verge of hysteria, she broke out: "I want to tell you this. If you do this thing, you'll ruin my life. You've done enough to it already. Now, I want you to go. I don't think you've got any right to come here now, in this way, and take this happiness from me. I've given you everything I've got, and now I want to live right and decently. He wants me to marry him. We love each other. Now, Will Brockton, it's come to this. You've got to leave this place, do you hear? You've got to leave this place. Please get out!" Brockton was white and determined looking. For the first time in his life, he was really angry. Leaving his chair and advancing towards her, he said menacingly: "Do you think I'm going to let a woman make a liar out of me? I'm going to stay right here. I like that boy, and I'm not going to let you put him to the bad." "I want you to go!" she cried. Shutting the trunk-lid down, she went over to the dresser and opened the drawer, to get more things out.