“Withdraw it?” he asked in pretended astonishment.
“I can’t bear to have him go to jail,” she cried softly.
“But, my dear, the man’s a thief; has betrayed the trust I reposed in him.”
“I can’t help it. I can’t help it. I don’t want him to go to jail.”
Viles dropped his eyes to the oilcloth that covered the table and drummed upon it with his fingers for a moment, then turned to Jeff.
“I’d be obliged for a few moments’ talk with my wife alone,” he said, a sardonic note in his tone.
Jeff held his eyes for a minute, then looked toward the woman. “What shall I do, ma’am?” he asked, as though it were a matter of course that he should defer to her.
She made a weary gesture. “He has a right to that,” she said.
Jeff nodded. “I’ll come back in fifteen minutes, mister,” he told Viles menacingly.
But Viles smiled in affable assent. “That will do finely,” he agreed.