"But you can find something quite easily," he urged, with mock politeness. "Your ladyship must control a bit of cash-money. Remember, I've already made enquiries, and I know quite well that this man Bracondale is extremely wealthy. Surely he doesn't keep too tight a hold on the purse-strings!" "I have already told you that I have no money except what Lord Bracondale gives me, and he often looks at my banker's pass-book. He would quickly ask me where the money had gone to." "Bah! You are a woman, and a woman can easily make an excuse. He'll believe anything if he is really fond of you, as I suppose he must be. You wouldn't like him to have that letter--would you, now?" "No. I've told you that," she replied, her pale, dry lips moving nervously. "Then we shall have to discuss very seriously ways and means, and come to terms, my girl," was his rough rejoinder. "But how can I make terms with you?" "Quite easily--by getting money." "I can't!" she cried. "Well, I guess I'm not going to starve and see you living in luxury--a leader of London society. It isn't likely, now, is it?" "No; knowing you as well as I do, I suppose it isn't likely." "Ah! You do me an injustice, Jean," he said. "I only want just sufficient to get away from here--to America--and begin afresh a new life. I'll turn over a new leaf--believe me, I will. I want to, but I haven't the cash-money to do it. To be honest costs money." "Yes," she sighed. "I suppose it does. And to be dishonest, alas! is always profitable in these days, when honour stands at a premium." "Well, how much can you get for me?" he asked roughly. "Nothing," she replied, holding out her hands in despair. "Where am I to get money from?" "You know best, Jean. I don't. All I know is, I want money--and I mean to have it." "But I tell you I can't get any," she protested. "You'll have to. You don't want Bracondale to know the truth, do you?" he asked. She shook her head. Her eyes were wild and haggard, her cheeks as pale as death. "Well, look here," he said, again thrusting his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Give me five thousand pounds, and you shall have your letter. I will be silent, and we will never meet again. I'll go back to America, and give my firm promise never to cross to Europe again." "Five thousand pounds!" echoed the distracted woman. "Why, I can't get such a sum! You must surely know that." "You will do so somehow--in order to save your honour." "What is the use of discussing it?" she asked. "I tell you such a proposal is entirely out of the question." "Very well. Then you must bear the consequences. If you won't pay me, perhaps Bracondale will." "What!" she gasped. "You would go to my husband?" "Husband!" he sneered. "I'm your husband, my girl. And I mean that either you or Bracondale shall pay. You thought yourself rid of me, but you were mistaken, you see," he added, with a hard laugh of triumph.