“I--I”--this was the merest boyishness--“I've told her about--well, that I tried to make love to you. I'm not afraid of that.” “Still--you wouldn't want her to hear you now.” This was awkwardly true. And his hesitation as he tried to consider it, to work out an attitude, ran a second too long. “The pearls are mine,” she pressed calmly on. “The best advice I can give you is to return them and go.” “But--” “Do you think I want the people aboard this junk--anybody--to know that I have them?” “I believe you stole them from the viceroy's place.” “That, of course--Well, never mind! What you may believe is nothing to me.” “Will you tell Mr. Doane about them?” “Certainly not. And you won't.” “Why shouldn't I?” “It's none of your business.” “Perhaps it's my duty.” “Listen”--he felt himself wholly in the right, yet found difficulty in meeting her cold pale eyes--“it's my impression that I've been acting rather decently toward you. Of course, I could have--” “What could you have done?” “For you own good, keep your voice down. I will tell you just this--you were pretty wild in Shanghai for a week or two.” “Well?” This was hurting him; but he met it. “And there's no likelihood that you've told her all of it. Were you such a fool as to think you could keep it all secret? Out here on the coast--and from a woman with as many underground connections as I have?” “There's nothing that!--” “Listen! I'm not through with you. You've been a very, very rough proposition. I know all about it. No--wait! There's something else. I knew all about you when you were making up to me on the steamer. I could have trapped you then--tangled your life so with mine that you could never have got away from me, never in the world. But I didn't. I liked you, and I didn't want to hurt you--then.” “You do want to hurt me now?” “It may be necessary.” “Since you're taking this position”--he was finding difficulty in making his voice heard; there seemed to be danger of explosive sounds--“probably I'd better just go to Mr. Doane myself with these things.” “If you do that I'll wreck your life.” “You don't mean that you'd--” “You seem to be forgetting a good deal.” “But you--” “I will defend myself to the limit. I've really been easy with you. You see, you don't know anything about me. Least of all what harm I can do. You'd be a child in my hands. Turn against me and I'll get you if it takes me ten years. You'll never be safe from me. Never for a minute.” He looked irresolutely down at the lustrous jewels in his hand. “You had these sewed in your skirt. There must be more there.” “Are you proposing to search me?” “No--but”.... His black youth was stabbing now, viciously, at his boyishly sensitive heart; but still, in a degree, he met it. “I'm going to Mr. Doane. I don't care what happens to me.”