"It is impossible to make terms with you, for you do not observe them. The law will bind you down more strictly. Meanwhile you cannot remain here, as you propose."
"Do you mean to throw me into the street?" she asked, passionately. "Alive or dead, I stay here until the compact is made."
"You need have no fear of me; I am not going to kill you."
"Fear! Of you! Do not flatter yourself, my friend!"
With an insulting laugh she plucked a thin stiletto from under her cloak, and brandished it before him. Alan recognized it as one which he had missed after her visit to Montagu Place.
"Look there! Would you like to feel if it is sharp, or will you take my word for it? We may want that before we part. I do not much care whether you use it or I; but I will not leave this room unless you concede all that I ask. Do not stand so far from me, coward. You smile, but you are afraid!"
"Why should I fear your play-acting? You will not touch me, for so long as I live you hope to get money from me, and if I were dead you would starve."
"Miserable hound! Do you not think that hate is stronger even than love of gold?"
"Not your hate. Throw that useless toy away. Love of gold and love of self make us both perfectly safe."
"Listen to my terms."