"See here, Mrs. Pethram," said Silas, leaning forward with his shrewd, sharp, foxy face, "it's no good your tryin' to play low on me. I've cut my eye teeth, I can tell you. You think you've got the whip hand of me. That's as I take it. Well, you can drop that dodge. I ran off with you to 'Frisco 'cause I was a born fool. I did love you, only you were more like a redskin than a civilised woman. We agreed to part company twenty years ago, and I've kept my part of the contract. I've gone right along in the money line, and this time I've come home on the winner. I'm married and straight now, and I don't want no one to put things wrong between my wife and me. As you're an old friend I'll act square by you if it's money, but if it's blackmail your looking after, it's no go, and you'd better believe it." Mrs. Belswin was in all things a headstrong, impulsive woman, without any craft or power to disguise her feelings. She had come to Oates with the fullest intention of threatening to tell his wife their former relations if he refused to give her money; but here was her adversary calmly placing the whole of her nefarious scheme before her, and she felt completely nonplussed. Oates, on the other hand, was so accustomed to trickery that Mrs. Belswin was a mere child in his hands, and the course he was now adopting was certainly the only means by which he could hope to checkmate her. "Well, madam!" said Silas, triumphantly, seeing his plain speaking had taken Mrs. Belswin aback, "what do you say?" Mrs. Belswin acted like a fool, lost her temper and stormed. "You despicable little wretch," she said, starting to her feet, with her eyes blazing with anger, "how dare you speak to me like this? Was it not for your sake that I lost my husband, my good name, my position in the world? And yet you dare to taunt me with it. You are now rich, married, and respectable. I, on the other hand, am poor--yes, poor, otherwise my life for these last twenty years has been above reproach. Oh, you may laugh! You judge me by yourself, but I tell you since I left you I have led a decent life. The reason I refuse to tell you. Now hear what I have to say. I would not have come to you unless it was a case of dire necessity, I hate you too much to have ever desired to set eyes on you again, but I was compelled to come, because I want money. Give me a cheque for £500 and I won't trouble you again. Refuse, and I'll tell your wife all." "Will you, indeed?" sneered Silas, mockingly. "Don't try the black-mailing game, for you won't bounce a cent out of me. That's so, Mrs. Pethram. My wife knows all about you. I told her all when I was married." "That's a lie," said Mrs. Belswin, fiercely. "I don't believe it." "I reckon it's true, though." "I won't take your word for it, so I'll ask your wife." "She'll be here at three-forty. You can wait."