The ambitious street-corner politician winced at the prospect of the public ridicule her disclosures would earn for him; the greedy grocer shrank from having to pay out real red gold for breach of promise.
"She's coming to dinner to-night," whispered Sarah Gale, the tight mouth and the small glittering eyes telling their own story of insensate hatred of the woman who had been selected to supplant her.
Greenacre looked into the face of his temptress, and instantly realized that if he wanted an accomplice in any crime here was one whom he could trust, even with his life.
"I don't want to see her," he said, turning away from the woman. "When she calls send her away. She'll guess by that that I've found everything out."
"She will not go away quietly," said Sarah Gale. "And if I give her a message like that she'll force her way in. What'll the neighbours say if they find a woman screaming outside your house on Christmas Eve? Better let her in. You can give her a good talking to. She deserves something for them lies she's been telling you."
He would have laughed to scorn the suggestion that he was a criminal, if the accusation had been made at that moment. Perhaps, he had been guilty in the past of giving short weight to his customers, and now and then in his anxiety to strike a bargain he may not have dealt fairly with his friends, but these were venial sins, and he believed himself to be a thoroughly respectable citizen; yet greed of gold was going to turn him into a calculating and cold-blooded criminal that very night.
When Hannah Browne arrived wearing her best clothes she was admitted by Sarah Gale, who must have smiled grimly when she saw the visitor's pleased expression.
The table was already prepared, and nothing remained but to serve up the banquet. But Greenacre, who had intended not to speak until after dinner, was unable to restrain himself, and Hannah had not been two minutes in the room when he burst into a torrent of angry words.
The widow started to her feet, listened for a few moments in silence, and then laughed mockingly. Now that the truth was known she only jeered at him, boasting of her success in having thrown dust in his eyes for so long. She answered him with threat for threat, and swore that she would make him keep his promise to marry her. Greenacre was provoked to madness, and, losing control of himself, he picked up a rolling-pin, and in a fury struck her with it. As she dropped to the floor Sarah Gale stole into the room on tiptoe, and, coming to the murderer's side, stood looking down at the corpse, elated by the knowledge that Greenacre would never be able to get rid of her now; in fact would be in her power all his life. He could not speak or move. The blood on the floor hypnotized him. He was a murderer, and if he were caught he would be hanged by the neck until he was dead. He shuddered convulsively at the thought.
The woman touched him on the shoulder.