“If I want money I’ve got a right to ask for it! And I do. I’ve got something to sell, ain’t I?—knowledge and silence. And silence is worth a lot, my girl, when a woman’s engaged to be married, and when there’s things in her past she don’t care about people knowing of. Yes, Miss Joan Meredyth, my lady clerk on three quid a week was one person, but Miss Meredyth of Starden Hall, engaged to be married to Mr. John Everard of Buddesby, is another, ain’t she?” “Please say what you have to say,” she said coldly. “I do not wish to stay here with you.” “But you are going to,” he said. “You are going to!” He reached out suddenly and gripped her hand. He had expected that she might struggle; it would have been human if she had, but she didn’t. “Please release my hand,” she said coldly. “I do not wish to stay here with you!” She paused. “Tell me why you wish to see me!” He dropped her hand with a snarling oath. “Well, if you want to know, it is money, and this time it is good money. I am up against it, and I’ve got to have money. I’ve been down here several times, hunting round, listening to things, hearing things. I heard about your engagement. I have heard about you. Oh, everyone looks up to you round here—Miss Meredyth of Starden!” He laughed. “And it is going to pay Miss Meredyth of Starden to shut my mouth, ain’t it? June, nineteen eighteen, ain’t so long ago, is it? Mr. Hugh Alston—hang him!—you set him on to me, didn’t you?” “So you have seen him?” “I saw him, curse him! He came and—and—” “Thrashed you?” Joan asked quietly “I thought he might!” “Stop it! Stop your infernal airs!” he almost shouted. “I am here for money, and I want it, and mean to have it—five thousand this time!” “I shall not pay you!” “Oh, you won’t—you won’t! Then I go to Buddesby. I’ll have a little chat there. I’ll tell them a few things about Marlbury and about a trip to Australia that did not come off, and about a marriage that never took place. I’ve got quite a lot to chat about at Buddesby, and I shan’t be done when I’m through there either. There’s a nice little inn in Starden, isn’t there? If one talked much there it would soon get about the place!” Under cover of the darkness her cheeks flamed, but her voice was still as cold and as steady as before. “Have you ever considered,” she asked quietly, “that what you think you know, may not be true?” “It is true! And if it isn’t true, it is good enough for me; but it is true!” “It is not!” He laughed. “It is—at any rate I think so, and others’ll think so. It’ll want a lot of explaining away, Joan, won’t it? if even it isn’t true. But I know better. Well, what about it—about the money?” “I shall consider,” she said quietly. “I paid you before, blackmail! If I asked you if this was the final payment, and you said Yes. I know that I need not believe you, so—so I shall consider. I shall take time to think it over.” “Oh, you will?” “Yes!”