Then, as she sipped it, drawing away now and then and spluttering a little as the raw spirit burned her tongue and throat, he went on:
"You are going to be sensible and not throw away your chance?"
"No—I mean yes," she said.
"You will take Beattie over to Marychurch to look at the house?"
"Yes—oh! yes."
"I'll give you a hundred and fifty a year—fifty more than I promised. You can do quite nicely on that?"
"Yes—thank you—yes."
"And as long as you keep your part of the bargain I'll keep mine. If you play me false and talk—"
"I sha'n't talk," she said, feebly and fretfully. "Why should I talk now it's no use?"
"Ah," Challoner returned, "I am very glad you have come to your senses, Mrs. Gwyn. I believed, give it a little thought, you'd see it all in a reasonable light. That's right."