She saw the grey eyes glitter as steel in sudden sunshine. Their brightness was intolerable. She turned her own away.
"Does it not occur to you, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said, "that your life is more my property than your own at the present moment? Have I no claim to be consulted as to its disposal?"
"None, monsieur," she made answer quickly. "None whatever."
"And yet," he said, "you asked me to save you when—had you preferred it—I would have died with you."
She was silent, remembering with bitterness her wild cry for deliverance.
He waited a little. Then:
"You may have nothing to offer me, Mademoiselle Stephanie," he said, "but, by heaven, you shall take nothing away."
She heard a deep menace in his voice that was like the growl of an angry beast. She shuddered inwardly as she listened, but outwardly she remained calm. She even, after a few moments, mustered strength to rise and face him.
"What is it that you want of me, Monsieur Dumaresq?" she asked. "How can I purchase your services?"
He flung back his head abruptly. She thought that he was going to utter his scoffing laugh. But it did not come. Instead, he looked at her, looked at her long and piercingly, while she stood erect and waited.