Mr. Peacocke, when he was left alone, remained in the room collecting his thoughts, and then went up-stairs to his wife.
"Has he gone?" she asked.
"Yes, he has gone."
"And what has he said?"
"He has asked for money,—to hold his tongue."
"Have you given him any?"
"Not a cent. I have given him nothing but hard words. I have bade him go and do his worst. To be at the mercy of such a man as that would be worse for you and for me than anything that fortune has sent us even yet."
"Did he want to see me?"
"Yes; but I refused. Was it not better?"
"Yes; certainly, if you think so. What could I have said to him? Certainly it was better. His presence would have half killed me. But what will he do, Henry?"