"You have expressed it clearly, Mr. Cohen. The moral screw, you know."
"Mr. Poynter," said Aaron with dignity, "I refuse your offer."
"It is not enough?"
"Were you to multiply it a hundred times it would not be enough."
Through Aaron's veins ran the sweet approval conveyed in Rachel's cold clasp upon his hand.
"You beggar!" exclaimed Mr. Poynter. "You hypocrite! You defy me?"
"You rich man," said Aaron, "you God-fearing man, do your worst."
"It shall be done," cried Mr. Poynter furiously. "You are ruined: I will ruin you still more; I will bring you to your knees; you shall lie in the gutter, and beg for mercy! You paragon of sanctity, all the world shall know you for what you are!"
"You can use no harsher words," said Aaron. "Relieve me now of your presence."
As he said this the communicating door between the rooms opened and Mrs. Gordon appeared on the threshold.