The mere fact of having her feet firmly planted upon the floor gave
Cuckoo a certain fillip of courage, and she tossed her head with that old
vulgar gesture of hers which suggested the harridan. She pointed to the
door.
"Out you go!" she cried.
For her intrepidity had not risen to calm contemplation of an interview.
She was only bracing herself up to the necessary momentary endurance of
his presence, which followed upon Mrs. Brigg's admittance of him within
the door.
Valentine heard the gentle hint unmoved, and replied to it by drawing
a chair out from the table and sitting down upon it. A sort of rage,
stirred by terror, ran over Cuckoo. She seized the back of his chair
with both hands and shook it violently.
"No, you don't stay," she ejaculated; "I won't have it!"
It was characteristic of her to lose all sense of dignity at an instant,
when dignity might have served her purpose. Her outburst might have been
directed against a statue. Valentine neither moved nor looked in any way
affected. Glancing at Cuckoo with a whimsical amusement, he said:
"What a child you are! When will you learn wisdom!"
Cuckoo took away her hands. A conviction pierced her that the weapons a
woman may use with effect against an ordinary man could be of no service
now, and with this man.
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