“No.”
“Ah, Maurice!”
“You can see him in the dock if you like,” says Frere, with a laugh, cut short by a flash of her eyes. “There, I didn't mean to offend you.”
“Offend me! Go on.”
“Listen here,” said he doggedly. “If you will go away, and promise never to interfere with me by word or deed, I'll do what you want.”
“What will you do?” she asked, unable to suppress a smile at the victory she had won.
“I will not say all I know about this man. I will say he befriended me. I will do my best to save his life.”
“You can save it if you like.”
“Well, I will try. On my honour, I will try.”
“I must believe you, I suppose?” said she doubtfully; and then, with a sudden pitiful pleading, in strange contrast to her former violence, “You are not deceiving me, Maurice?”