“You assume to know a great deal,” she said, defiantly.
“Not much assumption about it,” he coolly replied. “The thing is patent on its face. John Elkton is the man, and you cannot deny it.”
“John Elkton is no thief, as you insinuate,” she cried, red with anger. “I would much sooner believe such things of you than of him. I doubt if your honesty would weigh in the scale with his.”
“Facts are stubborn things,” he coolly replied. “I am not on trial now. He is. You must excuse me for speaking, Miss Arlington. John Elkton was connected with the theft of that silk, and I have abundant proof of it.”
“You have not, and you cannot have,” she answered, rising, but leaning heavily upon her chair. “If you came here on purpose to insult me, I can only say that you have succeeded, and that this interview had better close.”
“I am sorry to have offended you,” he replied. “I certainly had no such purposes as that. I came here to serve, instead of annoy you.”
“Serve me? In what way?” she asked. A pallor had replaced the flush.
“By keeping your secret. I alone have these proofs against John Elkton. I can suppress them. Of course I must aid Mr. Leonard in seeking the other thieves, but if the proofs in my possession are destroyed Elkton cannot be implicated. It is consideration for your feelings brings me here. I knew you would not wish him to be held as a felon.”
“No, indeed!” she said, clutching the chair, nervously.
“I am aware of your relations with him, and how bitterly you would feel any such disgrace, as your betrothal is known to all your friends. Of course your engagement must be broken. I care nothing for him, I care much for you, and wish to save you from disgrace. Your engagement can be quietly broken and the cause suppressed.”