's, "how a woman in your
position--who doesn't live with her husband--dares to talk to ME!"

There was a lull before the storm. Mrs. Horncastle approached nearer,
and, laying her hand on the back of the chair, leaned over her, and,
with a white face and a metallic ring in her voice, said: "It is just
because I am a woman IN MY POSITION that I do! It is because I don't
live with my husband that I can tell you what it will be when you no
longer live with yours--which will be the inevitable result of what you
are now doing. It is because I WAS in this position that the very man
who is pursuing you, because he thinks you are discontented with YOUR
husband, once thought he could pursue me because I had left MINE. You
are here with him alone, without the knowledge of your husband; call it
folly, caprice, vanity, or what you like, it can have but one end--to
put you in my place at last, to be considered the fair game afterwards
for any man who may succeed him. You can test him and the truth of what
I say by telling him now that I heard all."

"Suppose he doesn't care what you have heard," said Mrs. Barker sharply.
"Suppose he says nobody would believe you, if 'telling' is your game.
Suppose he is a friend of my husband and he thinks him a much better
guardian of my reputation than a woman like you. Suppose he should be
the first one to tell my husband of the foul slander invented by you!"

For an instant Mrs. Horncastle was taken aback by the audacity of the
woman before her. She knew the simple confidence and boyish trust of
Barker in his wife in spite of their sometimes strained relations, and
she knew how difficult it would be to shake it. And she had no idea of
betraying Mrs. Barker's secret to him, though she had made this scene
in his interest. She had wished to save Mrs. Barker from a compromising
situation, even if there was a certain vindictiveness in her exposing
her to herself. Yet she knew it was quite possible now, if Mrs. Barker
had immediate access to her husband, that she would convince him of her
perfect innocence. Nevertheless, she had still great confidence in Van
Loo's fear of scandal and his utter unmanliness. She knew he was not
in love with Mrs. Barker, and this puzzled her when she considered the
evident risk he was running now. Her face, however, betrayed nothing.
She drew back from Mrs. Barker, and, with an indifferent and graceful
gesture towards the door, said, as she leaned against the mantel, "Go