"I don't know. Van Zwieten had told me he hated you, and I am afraid of Van Zwieten. He told me he went to see you at the inn, and I thought you might have quarrelled, and----" She threw out her hands. "Oh, dearest, it is only because you are so much to me, I suppose, that I thought it must be you. Oh, Harold, the thought nearly drove me mad."
"But why did Van Zwieten want to see me?"
"To insist that you should give me up."
"Give you up? Confound his Dutch impertinence!" said Harold, angrily.
"Dearest, I am afraid of that man," said Brenda, clinging to him. "Yes, terribly afraid. He will not leave me alone. He speaks as though he were perfectly certain I should have to marry him."
"In that case, the most effectual method of putting an end to his presumption will be for you to marry me, dear, and that at once. Remember the twenty thousand pounds comes to me now!"
"Harold!--the money is yours? But how?"
"Malet's control of the fund died with him. Now that he is dead, nothing can prevent my getting it. We can be married straight away, dear."
"We should have done that in any case, Harold. But now---- Oh, do let us go to London at once; for, until we are really married, I shall not be able to shake off my fear of this man. I know I sha'n't."
"Nonsense, Brenda! He can be nothing to you, Why, you told me you detested the man."