Hurd took out some notes.
“I will lend you that,” he said slowly.
Jean le Roi’s long fingers took firm hold of the notes. He buttoned them up in his pocket, slapped the place where they were, and poured out more brandy.
“Now,” he said, “I am prepared. Madame shall discover what it means to deceive her fond husband!”
Hurd moved in his seat uneasily. There was something ominous in the villainous curve of the man’s lips—in the utter absence of any direct threats. What was it that was passing in his mind?
“You are not thinking of any violence?” he asked. “Remember she is a proud woman, and you cannot punish her more than by simply appearing and declaring yourself.”
Jean le Roi smiled.
“We shall see,” he declared.