I--I believe I would kill you! Even Nan cannot hate you or despise you one-tenth as much as I do!" She ceased, but her eyes blazed their hatred at him as her heart cursed him.

She was furious as a tigress that defends her young.
As for the man, his hand was still clenched upon her wrist, but no violent outburst escaped him.

He was white to the lips, but he was absolutely sane.

If he heard her wild reproaches, he passed them over.
"Who is the man ?" he said, and his voice fell like a word of command, arresting, controlling, compelling.
It was not what she had expected.

She had been prepared for tempestuous, for overwhelming, wrath.