“Yes, and be damned to you,” said the Baron van Trossart.
When Mopius arrived at the Manor-house Ursula was again closeted with the notary. She rose with a swift impulse of relief as soon as her uncle’s name reached her ear. She looked harassed. “You must excuse me, Mynheer Noks,” she said, going to the door. “We can talk it over again another time.”
“When?” said the notary.
“One of these days. To-morrow, perhaps. No, the day after.”
The notary followed her, inflexible.
“Mevrouw,” he said, “we can’t put off quarter-day. There is the interest, and there is that bill I spoke of. Three thousand florins are still wanting to make up the sum. In ten days’ time you must have them.”
“Must!” repeated Ursula, haughtily, drawing herself up.
“Yes. Must. It’s not my ‘must,’ but the law’s. The law knows nothing of great ladies. High or low, must is must.” Ah, thought the irritated notary, Mejuffrouw Rovers, I had you there!
“Mynheer Noks, I cannot keep my uncle waiting.”