"What has this to do with you?" Flora asked.
Peters made a deprecating gesture. "Wyndhams' has now some standing on the exchange; the house's credit is pretty good, and people are beginning to think your husband a clever business man. Wyndham is clever, but for a man to build up a business he must be known for something else. If he wants to command people's trust, he must keep certain rules."
"I suppose that is so," Flora agreed with forced carelessness.
"Very well," said Peters. "I'm afraid Wyndhams' new prosperity rests on an unsafe foundation. A statement about their trade on the Caribbean would shake it badly; in fact, I doubt if the house would stand the shock. A merchant must enjoy his customers' confidence and confidence is soon destroyed."
"You imply you could destroy the confidence people have in Wyndhams'?"
"It is possible. For all that, I hesitate— You see, you, and to some extent Commodore Chisholm, would be involved in your husband's fall. But I needn't labor this. You know how prosperous conventional people treat friends who lose their place."
Flora struggled for calm, but her eyes flashed and the blood came to her skin.
"Oh," she said, forgetting the part she meant to play, "you want a bribe? Money to be silent? You could not rob my husband, so you came to me! You think I am weaker and you can work on my fears?"
"It looks as if he had told you something," Peters remarked coolly. "I do not think he has told you all."
There was a step on the path behind them and as Flora turned Marston advanced. His face was red and very grim. Bob was generally calm, but he was savage now.