"And that little gambling saloon at Lima."
"Hush! for God's sake. You will ruin me."
"I intend to," said Eustace relentlessly, "unless----" and he pointed to the desk.
Without saying a word, she arose to her feet, and dragging herself slowly across the room sat down at the desk and began to write. Eustace said nothing, but remained standing by the sofa with a smile of satisfaction on his massive features. Nothing was heard in the room but the steady ticking of the clock, and the scratching of Mrs. Veilsturm's pen as it moved rapidly over the paper. In a few minutes she came back to him holding out a sheet of paper, which he read carefully without taking it out of her hand.
"That will do," he said quietly. "Will you be so kind as to put it into an envelope and direct it?"
Darting a look of hatred at him, which showed how hard it was for her to control her temper, she returned to the desk and did what he asked. Then, leaving it on the blotting-paper, she went to her seat by the window, while Eustace, picking up the letter, glanced at the address and slipped it into his inner pocket.
"And about leaving San Remo?" he asked, turning towards Mrs. Veilsturm.
"I will leave in three days," she replied harshly. "Will that suit you?
"Yes! I won't see you again. Bon voyage."
He turned to go, but Mrs. Veilsturm's voice arrested him. "Of course you will say nothing about South America?" she said quietly.