"You dare not do it, my dear; the old man wouldn’t have it. Devilish proud old boy, Sir Frederick Kennaird, eh? His hair would turn grey if you talked about the courts—he told me so himself. He’ll have to pay Bothand and look pleased. I shall write to him myself if you don’t; tell him you’re sailing under false colours here, and the men dancing at your heels. Eh, what, wouldn’t that be the truth? Why, I saw you on the snow with two of them this morning, and I laughed. This paragon of virtue nods sometimes, eh? Well, I don’t complain; I’m meek as a lamb. And I’m going to have nine thousand four hundred inside ten days, or there’ll be a story at the New Bailey and you’ll figure in it, my dear—for, you see, I used your name and they’re not the kind of people to forget it. No, by gad, we’ll sink or swim together—so help me Heaven!" Her anger had been growing while he spoke and now quite mastered her. The gentle lady had become the proud woman, full of courage and resolution. "You are one of the worst of men," she said in a low voice. "I thought and believed that you had gone from my life; I now see how much I was mistaken. But I shall live now for nothing else. If you come here again, I will appeal to the people of the hotel for protection. You tell me that you have been guilty of fraud, and I can quite believe it. But understand: I will write no letter to my father, take no steps whatever to save you, and if you are punished, I will be the first to rejoice. Go now, and let that be my answer." He was not at all alarmed. "Oh," he said, rising jauntily, "I’m going all right; but I’m up at Vermala if you want me. Remember it’s nine thousand four hundred, and the old man can pay Bothand and Co. direct if he likes. I pawned the stuff in your name, and they say it’s fraud. Well, we shall have the ’tecs out here in a day or two and there’ll be some fun. They can extradite the pair of us, and you’d have to go back with me. I say, Lil, that would make the old man sit up, wouldn’t it? There’d be a harvest home at Kennaird Court, now wouldn’t there? I’d write to him, if I were you—there’s a day or two yet; but the game will be up if they get a warrant. Think it over, my sweet love, take the advice of the little bounder in black, who was holding you so tight this morning, if you like. He’ll tell you what to do better than I can. A man will know that I wouldn’t take it so lightly if the money were coming to me; no, by the Lord, I’d be singing another tune then, and one you’d understand. But these d——d jewellers must have their bit—there’s no help for it."