“Yes,” he answered quietly, “there is one way in which you can pay me back. Speak the truth in answering my questions.” “I’ll try,” said Rosalie meekly. “Then put an ending to that ‘I—I—I—.’” “I came because I thought it was time. I got a little bit tired of the Serpent.” “Why?” “Because it never took any notice of me.” “Are you sure?” Rosalie’s curious eyes looked up innocently and met his. “Does that surprise you very much?” “I confess that it does.” “Do you know, I’m very tired. If you don’t mind, I’ll come again to-morrow and talk it over.” But he shook his head, and smiled again. “I don’t think I’ll let you go,” he said. “Your answers are not very satisfactory. Besides, where is there you can go?” “Oh, with a tongue one can go anywhere and do anything.” “You think so?” “Yes.” And here from sheer weariness and exhaustion she slipped down in the arm-chair beside her. It had been a very hard day, and the ending had told upon her strength. She had not fainted, however, she was only sleeping. Mr. Barringcourt crossed the room and looked at her very narrowly, even dropping on one knee to examine her features more nearly. It was a very pale, thin, and tired face he looked at, delicate and fragile, with dark lashes, and faint blue shadows underneath the closed eyes. The backs of her hands were rough, and he took each up and examined it as though he had been a fortune-teller—back and front. Then he began walking slowly back and forwards through the room. His face, though handsome after a kind, was certainly not of the most prepossessing; and yet in repose his expression was one of weariness and contempt. “What shall I do with her?” he muttered. “Keep her to prevent blabbing as usual. Keep her and bring her up to talk properly. When she is old enough, or rather fit enough, I’ll let her out on a lease long enough to take her to the devil. Always the same! everlastingly the same! coming and going, with nothing to give and everything to ask. Dull to the very core, chattering like magpies, smiling and aping God knows what! Rich and poor, all of them alike. And for some reason best known to myself I stand it. What an excellent patient fisherman I should make!” Then he sat down again very deliberately in his chair, and drew the book he had been reading towards him, at the same ringing a bell. The same man who had admitted Rosalie answered it. “Take her away, and see she doesn’t get out,” said he, without looking up; and the other evidently understood so well that he never asked a question. CHAPTER VI NEW EXPERIENCES When Rosalie awoke next morning, it was with a pardonable sense of bewilderment and estrangement. Instead of the little bedroom, bare of carpet, and devoid of all furniture, except the poorest and the simplest, she found herself in one that was really palatial.