Sir Edward ceased to smoke: and his hands trembled on his knees.
But he made no movement, and uttered no protest. Before the glance of his visitor he quailed and was dumb.
"Ruth Medwin, I presume, must bear her disgrace as best she can? You will neither recognize her, nor make her an allowance, I understand."
"I think I have changed my mind. . . ."
"Too late," said the Visitor. "After having seen me you can change your mind no more."
Sir Edward lay motionless among the cushions of his chair.
"I should like . . . if you will allow me. . . ." he began feebly.
"I can allow you only one choice: and that a peremptory one. Will you go with me instantly—I think you know me—or shall I call for you again on any terms I care to fix?"
"Will your terms be as pitiless. . . ."
"You shall hear them, if you please."