"I will," said she, "from the top of the stairs. And I'll leave you this for comfort: If you behave yourself for the future I won't tell my husband about this. He'd half kill you."
"I don't know about that," said Schultz, even with Charles's teeth quietly but persistently boring his leg. "I don't know so much about that."
"I do," she said, with almost the conviction of the woman in love. "You'd better stay here till we've gone away. I'm not ungrateful for what you did for me on that day, and if you never dare to speak to me again I'll never tell."
"I don't care what you tell," said Schultz. "Call the devil off, I say."
She ran up the stairs, and at the top called out, "Charles, drop it. Come here, sir."
And Charles dropped it and came.
It was then for the first time that she felt that she was Charles's mistress, even as Edward was Charles's master.
The dog and the woman went out together into the sunshine, and there, between blue sky and green grass, embraced with all the emotions proper to deliverer and delivered. When Edward rejoined them, five minutes later, she was able to say, quite calmly:
"Yes, he found me out. He is clever. He is a darling."