"Indeed, Miss Thorn," said Vancouver, stiffly, "I do not understand you in
the least. I think what you say is very extraordinary. John Harrington has
always been a friend of mine."
"That may be, Mr. Vancouver, but you are certainly no friend of his," said
Joe, with a scornful laugh.
"You astonish me beyond measure," rejoined Pocock, maintaining his air of
injured virtue, although he inwardly felt that he was in some imminent
danger. "How can you possibly say such a thing?"
Joe could bear it no longer. She was very imprudent, but her honest anger
boiled over. She stopped in her walk, her back against the iron railings,
and she faced Vancouver with a look that frightened him. He was forced to
stop also, and he could not do less than return her glance.
"Do you dare to stand there and tell me that you are Mr. Harrington's
friend?" she asked in low distinct tones. "You, the writer of articles in
the 'Daily Standard,' calling him a fool and a charlatan? You, who have
done your very best to defeat him in this election? Indeed, it is too
absurd!" She laughed aloud in utter scorn, and then turned to continue her
way.
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