You were only on trial, like I shall be.' Grace was livid with fury.
'Played badly! As if we didn't all know how you've managed it! Much it has to do with good or bad acting! We know how creatures of your kind get what they want.' Before the last word was uttered she was seized with a violent fit of coughing; her cheeks flamed, and spots of blood reddened on the handkerchief she put to her mouth.

Half-stifled, she lay back in the angle of the wall by the door.

Clara regarded her with a contemptuous pity, and when the cough had nearly ceased, said coldly: 'I'm not going to try and match you in insulting language; I dare say you'd beat me at that.

If you take my advice, you'll go home and take care of yourself; you look ill enough to be in bed.

I don't care what you or anyone else thinks of me; what you said just now was a lie, but it doesn't matter.