“O! I see well enough you too want me out of the way,” said Moll, perking a scornful nose. “What is the good of going round about it like this? I’m dangerous where I am, I suppose. Very well, then I must be got rid of.” He laughed. “Too impulsive, too impulsive, my little lady. Dangerous you could be, that’s patent, to any man’s peace of mind. But, as to the sense in which you mean it----” She broke in with a little imperious stamp. “As to that, I’m not to be misjudged by you or any one. When I said the scandal wasn’t in _my_ position, I meant it. If you think I’m there as my lord’s doxy, you’re precious well mistaken. I hate the beast--and if it’s a question of scandal, ’tis her ladyship ought to go. There, she ought; and you know why.” “I don’t, on my honour.” “Then, you’d like to.” “Ah! that, maybe, is quite another matter.” He looked at her, she looked at him. “Come, Mrs. Davis,” he said, after a minute of silence: “I’m sure we are on the way to understand one another.” “O! are we?” said Moll, with a sniff. “Scandals,” he said, “have nothing to do with facts. An apparition might cause one. You may be as innocent as a babe, but appearances are against you. Therefore you must suffer for appearances. Now, about this voice of yours.” “Well, what about it?” “With that and your face for fortune, you might, under proper auspices, prove an incalculable success.” “What do you mean by auspices?” He leaned forward, lightly touching his breast with his fingers. “Patronage: a Royal Duke’s. And in the meantime, pending developments, we might consent to condone this offence, leaving you undisturbed in your present position.” “I see,” said the girl, after a pause, her eyes rather glowing--“I see. And that, you mean, is to be your reward to me by and by for consenting, if I do consent, to act now as your creature and decoy to help you to your fancy. You’ve no objection to letting me remain on the spot, in spite of my polluting it, if only I’ll act my best for you as an informer and go-between.” “Such intelligence,” said the Duke, “combined with gifts so sweet, should ensure you, properly directed, a prosperous future.” “Well,” said Moll, “it’s a bargain if you like. Only wait while I think.” A sense of mischief was already alive in her. Defrauded in her higher expectations, she cared nothing for that conditional promise of patronage, except that it humiliated even her to be thought worthy of it. She had the wit and the gifts, if she chose to exercise them, to prevail in that direction without any help from outsiders. Feeling rather at bay, in the midst of this group of self-interested plotters, she was driven at last to abandon her position in a revel of retaliation on them all. Only how could she manage it--how? Let her think. “You’re a great gentleman, I know,” she said suddenly; “but, where love’s concerned, even princes have to take their place among the ranks. Have you never fear of a rival?”