He got to his feet and with darkened face took a step towards her. "What's that you say, woman? Don't I pay you enough?" She met his eyes stubbornly. "The pay's all right. I'm not complaining of that. You've always done generously by me in that way. And I've been useful to you. I may be a crook, but I'm not that sort of woman." "What's biting you?" he asked threateningly. "Do you know where you would be in a couple of days if I passed the word? In gaol with your husband and seven or ten years staring you in the face. Tread on the soft pedal, Sophie--and don't Larry Hughes me. Sir, from you, and don't you forget it." She placed her hands on her hips. "I know. All the same I won't be dragged into this kind of dirtiness." His frown faded. Comprehension showed in his face. "I see," he smiled. "I didn't know that you were that kind of puritan. You can relieve yourself of any scruples. I intend to marry the lady." "If that's the case----" She hesitated in doubt. "Oh, it's all true enough," he insisted. "She knows too much for my health. If ever I go down, Sophie, it's going to be bad for a lot of us. So I'm going to shut her mouth by marrying her. I think I'd have married her anyway. Now you've got the strength of the whole thing, Sophie." He resumed the attitude he had held on her entrance, and accepting this as a dismissal she withdrew. Larry grinned to himself with some cynicism over this touch of human nature. Here was old Sophie Lengholm, daughter of criminal parents, married to a man even now in prison for an attack on a police officer that was only just short of murder, and herself a not inconsiderable ally in all sorts of wickedness for years, turning squeamish over what she thought was an affair of morals. Women were queer cattle. Well, anyway, she could be relied upon now that he had put matters straight for her. Quite apart from all considerations of money she would risk too much if she played any monkey business with him. He trusted none over whom he could not crack a whip. Meantime, alone in her room Penelope was trying to decide upon some course of action. Her head ached with the effort to see some solution. She had no doubt that Larry Hughes had meant what he said when he declared his intention to marry her. The very audacity by which he had trapped her showed that there was no length to which he was not prepared to go. She was afraid, but she told herself that she must not let her faculties become paralysed. He could not force her to marry him. Such things were not done these days. At all costs she must try to get some word to London. The construction that would be put upon her absence was appallingly plain to her. But how? Her baffled mind beat wildly about the problem.