Mayfield nodded. Far better to let Mary talk herself out, he told himself cynically. She was not the sort of girl to yield without a struggle, she was no frightened child to sue for terms. But in the letter she had written to Mayfield she had sounded the note of surrender. He was here now as conqueror; to see her walk out with all the honours of war. And surely she was worth all the strategy if any woman was, the tall, fair beauty with those flashing eyes and the skin of alabaster glistening in the rays of the moonlight. A prize worth the winning, a daughter of the gods, if ever there was one. "But these methods are out of date," Mary went on in the same bitter strain. "I am told that they do things in different fashion today. You have done me the honour to ask me to share your future life and I refused the offer." "Why?" Mayfield asked. "My family is equally as good as your own." "I know it. But _noblesse oblige_. You are what you are. And so you planned and plotted for this; with diabolical cunning you saw where you could strike me in a fatal spot. You came here tonight in a position to make your own terms." "Not quite," Mayfield said quietly. "There is another way for you. So far as I understand your father is in a position to make his holding sure in a few days. The house is large and the presence of a few guests, however undesirable, makes little difference. It is, I admit, not a nice thing to have one of the great unwashed smoking shag tobacco in the drawing-room, but it is only a matter of days. The matter is in your hands for you to decide as you please. I am not going to coerce you." Mary laughed scornfully. The mirth sounded harshly against the silence of the night; the man on the satin cushions stirred and made a gurgling noise in his throat. Mary's mood suddenly changed and she shuddered. She was bitterly conscious of her complete inability to do anything. She had expected Mayfield to take his triumph openly; she was just beginning to understand what a strong and dangerous foe he could be. "You know how to gloss it," the girl said. "But there is going to be no tacit ignoring of the real truth between you and me. You have brought this all about to force my hand. You have calculated upon my pride of race, and my pride of place. You know--nobody better--what suffering this is likely to afford me. And you are in a position to remove the pain and the humiliation with the stroke of a pen."