He made none, merely rang the bell and gave orders for the despatch of the message.
Then he came quietly back to her. They stood face to face. She was quite erect, but pale to the lips. She stood before him as a prisoner awaiting sentence, too proud to ask for mercy.
Hone paused a few moments, as if to give her time to speak, to challenge him, to make her defence, or to plead her weakness. Then, as she did none of these things, he suddenly laid steady hands upon her, drew her to him, and, bending, looked closely into her eyes.
"And is there any reason at all why I should not take what is my own?" he said.
She did not resist him, but a long shiver went through her.
"Are you sure it is worth the taking?" she said.
"Quite sure," he answered quietly. "Shall I tell you how I know?"
Her eyes sank before his.
"You will do exactly as you choose."
He was silent for an instant, still intently searching her white face. Then: