"Ah you have seen him. And did he speak to you--a gaol-bird?"
"Yes, he did. I made him speak to me."
His wife looked curiously at him and significantly. "It is as I thought," she said. "You know something about him, and you have come down to blackmail him or Miss Cass. Well, go and do it, and get back into gaol if you can. I should be glad to see you in prison again. As it is, out you go--now!"
"I have no money--no shelter."
"I will give you five shillings," she said. "With that you can go to the village inn--it is only two miles away."
Jenner took out his red pocket-book and laid it on the table near the window. "I have a pencil and paper in this," he said. "What you lend me I will give you an I.O.U. for. I don't want your money."
"I decline," said his wife, turning from the open window, out of which she had been leaning. "Once the money passes into your hands it becomes too vile for me to touch again. Wait here, and I will get you the five shillings."
He sprang forward, almost beside himself, and seized her wrist. "You wretch--I'll give you a thrashing for this."
Mrs. Jenner shook off his hand, new to the fireplace and snatched up the poker. "You lay a finger on me, and I'll kill you," she cried, wildly. "You foul beast--your very touch is poison. I am not the woman I was to put up with your brutality. Stand back, you gaol-bird."
He backed towards the open window, and began to whimper. "Don't be such a virago," he said. "I don't want to touch you. If you will give me the money I will go away. But you have lost the chance of a fortune," he boasted, shaking the red pocket-book. "I can get hundreds--hundreds."