She rose from the sofa wearily and went to the fireplace:
“I should like some smallest proof,” she said—“for This is the father of—my—child.... Give me some smallest proof, Eustace, that this man has a shred of manhood—the least little frayed shred. I have made every appeal—appeals for enslavement which, if granted, would have bitten into me like the teeth of a dog. But, for the child’s sake, I held out my hand to be bitten, bared my breast, begged him to befoul me with his benefits!”
She uttered a little harsh laugh:
“I was saved the dog’s teeth of that ignominy,” she said.
Lovegood had stood, pondering hard; he suddenly remembered a five-pound note which had been paid to him that day.
He coughed:
“Well, as it happens, he has given me rather an embarrassing task to fulfil,” he said. “He sends you some money by me—I wish my friends would not always give me their unpleasant duties to perform.”
The big man tugged the crisp banknote out of his breast-pocket, and brought it to her.
She took it; and crumpled it in her hand:
“I will touch nothing,” she began passionately, swinging her hand to fling the money into the fire—stopped—turned sharply and looked keenly at Lovegood: