“Do you mean, then, to retain possession of the letter?” asked she, hurriedly.
“I protest, I think it is better—better for all of us—that I should do so. You will pardon me if I observe that you are now under the influence of excited feelings,—you are irritated. Any line of action, under such circumstances, will necessarily be deficient in that calm, matured judgment which is mainly your characteristic.”
“It needed but this, sir, to fill up the measure!” ex-claimed she, passionately.
“I don't perfectly apprehend you, Miss Kellett.”
“I mean, sir, that this last trait of yours was alone wanting to complete the utter contempt I now feel for my late life and its associates. Mr. Dunn's letter, with all its disgraceful disclosures,—your own crafty counsels how best to profit by the accidental knowledge,—and now this refusal to restore the letter,—this mean distrust based on a breach of confidence—”
“By no means, madam. In withholding this letter, I maintain it to be my own. I have already explained to you that the address is all you can lay claim to; a recent legal decision is in my favor. It was tried last Hilary term before Justice Whitecroff. The case was Barnes versus Barnes.”
“If my anger prompt me to rasher acts than my calmer reason might have counselled,” broke in Sybella, “remember, sir, it is to yourself you owe it. At least upon one point you may rely. Whatever I decide to do in this affair, it will not be swayed by any—the slightest—regard for your friends or their interests. I will think of others alone,—never once of them. Your smile seems to pay, 'The war between us is an unequal one.' I know it. I am a woman, poor, friendless, unprotected; you and yours are rich, and well thought of; and yet, with all this odds, if I accept the conflict I do not despair of victory.”
As she left the room and the door closed after her, Mr. Hankes wiped the perspiration from his forehead, and sat down, the perfect picture of dismay.
“What is she up to?” cried he, three or four times to himself. “If she resolves to make a public scandal of it, there's an end of us! The shares would be down—down to nothing—in four-and-twenty hours! I'll telegraph to Dunn at once!” said he, rising, and taking his hat. “The mischance was his own doing; let him find the remedy himself.”
With all that perfection of laconic style which practice confers, Mr. Hankes communicated to Davenport Dunn the unhappy mistake which had just befallen. Under the safeguard of a cipher used between them, he expressed his deepest fears for the result, and asked for immediate counsel and guidance.