He paused; but Anstice, having no suggestion to make, kept silence, and Sir Richard went on with his speech.
"Generally speaking, in the character of a woman of a Southern nature, we find one or two strongly-marked attributes. One is a capacity for love, equalled only by a capacity for hatred. Of course Tochatti is only half Italian, but personally I distrust what we may call half-breeds even more than the real thing. You know the old proverb, 'An Englishman Italianate He is a devil incarnate'--and I believe there is some truth in the words."
"I share your distrust for half-breeds," said Anstice fervently. "And in this case, although she speaks excellent English as a rule, it always seems to me that Tochatti is more than half Italian. Do you agree with me?"
"I do--and that's why I distrust her," returned Sir Richard grimly. "I confess I don't like the women of the Latin races--those of the lower classes, anyway. A woman of that sort who is supplanted by a rival is about the most dangerous being on the face of the earth. She sticks at nothing--carries a knife in her garter, a phial of poison in her handbag, and will quite cheerfully sacrifice her own life if she may mutilate or destroy the aforesaid hated rival."
"So I have always understood. But in this case, if you will excuse me pointing it out, there is no possibility of love entering into it. To begin with, Tochatti is a middle-aged woman; and of course there could not be any question of rivalry between her and her mistress."
"Oh, of course not. I was speaking generally," Sir Richard reminded him. "But there are other reasons for jealousy besides the primary reason, love. You know, in the case of these last letters, which are certainly actuated by some very real spite against you ... why, what's the matter now?" For Anstice had uttered an exclamation which sounded almost exultant.
"By Jove, sir, I believe I've got it--the reason why the woman should feel spiteful towards me!" In his excitement he threw away his cigar, half-smoked, and Sir Richard, noting the action, guessed that an important revelation was at hand.
"You've got it, eh?" Sir Richard sat upright in his chair. "Well, may I hear it? It's no secret, I suppose?"
"Secret? Heavens, no--but how intensely stupid I've been not to think of it before!"
"Go on--you're rousing my curiosity," said Sir Richard as Anstice came to a sudden stop. "Tell me how on earth you have managed to rouse the woman's spite. Personally, seeing how cleverly you pulled her adored Cherry through that illness of hers, I should have thought she would have extended her devotion to you."