"But I bought it, yesterday! Had I given you all of the Oregon country it would not have been worth twenty thousand pounds. What I'll have to-night—what I'll take—will be worth twice that. But I bought that key, and what I buy I keep."
I heard a struggle, but she repulsed him once more in some way. Still my time had not come. He seemed now to stoop, grunting, to pick up something from the floor.
"How now? My memorandum of treaty, and torn in two! Oh, I see—I see," he mused. "You wish to give it back to me—to be wholly free! It means only that you wish to love me for myself, for what I am! You minx!"
"You mistake, my lord," said her calm, cold voice.
"At least, 'twas no mistake that I offered you this damned country at risk of my own head. Are you then with England and Sir Richard Pakenham? Will you give my family a chance for revenge on these accursed heathen—these Americans? Come, do that, and I leave this place with you, and quit diplomacy for good. We'll travel the continent, we'll go the world over, you and I. I'll quit my estates, my family for you. Come, now, why do you delay?"
"Still you misunderstand, my lord."
"Tell me then what you do mean."
"Our old bargain over this is broken, my lord. We must make another."
His anger rose. "What? You want more? You're trying to lead me on with your damned courtezan tricks!"
I heard her voice rise high and shrill, even as I started forward.