Major Griff shrugged his shoulders and walked slowly to the other end of the room. He was a man who never wasted words, and seeing from the set expression of Mrs. Veilsturm's face that she was determined to carry out her purpose, he judged it useless to argue about the matter. Yet, although he kept his temper well under control, he could not help saying something disagreeable to this woman who was sacrificing everything for the sake of revenge.
"In spite of your cleverness, my dear Maraquita, I shrewdly suspect that Sir Guy sees through your little game, he has placed himself beyond the reach of temptation."
"He will come back," she said curtly.
"I doubt it. The moth does not come back to the flame that has once singed its wings. The fly doesn't trust itself in the spider's web a second time."
"He will come back."
The Major returned to the fireplace, produced his pocketbook in the most leisurely manner, and took a gold pencil case hanging at the end of his chain in his fingers.
"I'll bet you the worth of that diamond star in your hair he does not."
"Don't be rash, the star cost two hundred pounds."
"So. I'll lay you two hundred pounds to the promise that you'll behave decently, that Errington does not come back."
Mrs. Veilsturm opened her fan with a grand wave, and looked at him serenely.