"I am not so sure of that. You were an accessory after the fact. And if the public knew that you had acquiesced in the death of your sister and had held your tongue for years, you would not be popular. I fear your books would not sell then."
Mrs. Octagon saw all this, and glared savagely at Cuthbert. She would have liked to kill him, but he was the stronger of the two, and knew much which she wished kept silent. Mallow saw the impression he was making and went on persuasively. "And think, Mrs. Octagon, Juliet can give you up the six thousand a year—"
"Not she," laughed Mrs. Octagon, sneering.
"She will, at my request. I don't want my wife to possess money made out of coining. The income will be made over to you by deed of gift."
"Six thousand a year," mused the lady, "and you will hold your tongue?"
"Of course, for Juliet's sake as well as for yours. But I think it will be advisable for you to travel for a few years."
"I'll take up my abode in America forever," said Mrs. Octagon, rising, "do you think I'll stop here and see you my daughter's husband? Not for all the money in the world. Besides, Mr. Octagon has been insolent over money, and I sha'n't stay with him. Basil and myself will go to America and there we will become famous."
"It is certainly better than becoming famous in another way," said Mallow, dryly, "you will, of course be quite amiable to Juliet. Also to me, in public."
"Oh," she replied, with a short laugh, "I'll kiss you if you like."
"There is no need to go so far. I am sorry for you."