Some papers brought to her father by Goslin she had placed in the safe earlier that evening, and these, she recognised, were now in Flockart's hands. She had not read them herself, and had no idea of their contents. They were, to her, never interesting. "Mr. Flockart," she exclaimed very firmly at last, "I ask you to kindly replace those papers in my father's safe, relock it, and hand me the key." "That I certainly refuse to do," was the man's defiant reply, bowing as he spoke. "You would prefer, then, that I should go up to my father and explain all I have seen?" "I repeat what I have already said. You are perfectly at liberty to tell whom you like. It makes no difference whatever to me. And, well, I don't want to be disturbed just now." Rising, he walked across to the writing-table, and taking a piece of note-paper bearing the Heyburn crest, rapidly pencilled some memoranda upon it. He was, it seemed, taking a copy of one of the documents. Suddenly she sprang towards him, crying, "Give me that paper! Give it to me at once, I say! It is my father's." He straightened himself from the table, pulled down his white dress-vest with its amethyst buttons, and, looking straight into her face, ordered her to leave the room. "I shall not go," she answered boldly. "I have discovered a thief in my father's house; therefore my duty is to remain here." "No. Surely your duty is to go upstairs and tell him;" and he bent again, resuming his rapid memoranda. "Well," he asked defiantly, a few moments later, seeing that she had not moved, "aren't you going?" "I shall not leave you here alone." "Don't. I might run away with some of the ornaments." "Oh, yes!" exclaimed the girl bitterly, "you taunt me because you are well aware of my helplessness--of what occurred on that never-to-be-forgotten afternoon--of how completely you have me in your power! I see it all. You defy me, well knowing that you could, in a moment, bring upon me a vengeance terrible and complete. It is all horrible!" she cried, covering her face with her hands. "I know that I am in your power. And you have no pity, no remorse." "I gave you full warning," he declared, placing the papers upon the table and looking at her. "I gave you your choice. You cannot blame me. You had ample time and opportunity." "But I still have one man who loves me--a man who will yet stand my friend and defend me, even against you!" "Walter Murie!" he laughed, with a quick gesture of disregard. "You believe him to be your friend? Recollect, my dear Gabrielle, that men are deceivers ever." "So it seems in your case," she exclaimed with poignant bitterness. "You have brought scandalous comment upon my father's name, and yet you are utterly unconcerned." "Because, as I have already told you, your father is my friend." "And it is his money which you spend so freely," she said, in a low, hard voice of reproach. "It comes from him." "His money!" he exclaimed quickly. "What do you mean? What do you imply?"