"Yet you have oft told me that Sue's love for her mysterious prince had vastly cooled of late!" urged Editha still anxiously.
"Why yes! forsooth!" he retorted grimly, "Sue's sentimental fancy for the romantic exile hath gone the way of all such unreasoning attachments; but she has ventured too far to draw back. . . . And she will not draw back," he concluded significantly.
"Have a care, Marmaduke! . . . the girl is more willful than ye wot of. . . . You may strain at a cord until it snap."
"Pshaw!" he said, with a shrug of his wide shoulders, "you are suffering from vapors, my dear Editha . . . or you would grant me more knowledge of how to conduct mine own affairs. . . . Do you remember, perchance, that the bulk of Sue's fortune will be handed over to her this day?"
"Aye! I remember!"
"Begad, then to-night I'll have that bulk out of her hands. You may take an oath on that!" he declared savagely.
"And afterwards?" she asked simply.
"Afterwards?"
"Yes . . . afterwards? . . . when Sue has discovered how she has been tricked? . . . Are you not afraid of what she might do? . . . Even though her money may pass into your hands . . . even though you may inveigle her into a clandestine marriage . . . she is still the daughter of the late Earl of Dover . . . she has landed estates, wealth, rich and powerful relations. . . . There must be an 'afterwards,' remember! . . ."
His ironical laugh grated on her nerves, as he replied lightly: