"Address this man. Ask him to appoint a meeting. Meet him. Tell him what you have told me, and make him reveal himself. He will be sure to do it, if he thinks there are grounds for hope."
"And if it turns out to be Sardonyx or Oleander—and I have a presentiment that it's the latter—what then?"
"'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.' I don't believe it is either. From what you tell me of them, I am sure neither would behave so honorably at the last—keeping his promise and fetching you home."
"There is something in that," said Mollie, thoughtfully. "Unless, indeed, they grew tired of me, or were afraid to imprison me longer. And my masked husband talked, at the parting, as neither of these reptiles could talk. It may be some one of whom I have never thought—who knows? I've had such a quantity of lovers that I couldn't possibly keep the run of them. However, as I'm dying to meet him again, whoever he is, I'll take your advice and address him."
Miriam rose.
"That is well. And now I must be going. It is past three, and New York streets will presently be astir. I have a long way to go, and no wish to be seen."
"Miriam, stop. Can't I do anything to assist you? You are half starved, I know: and so miserably clad. Do—do let me aid you?"
"Never!" the woman cried, "while you are beneath this roof. If ever you settle down in a house of your own, and your husband permits you to aid so disreputable a being as I am, I may listen to you. All you have now belongs to Carl Walraven; and to offer me a farthing of Carl Walraven's money is to offer me the deadliest of insults."
"How you hate him! how he must have wronged you!" Again that burning blaze leaped into the woman's haggard eyes.
"Ay, girl! hate and wrong are words too poor and weak to express it. But I bide my time—and it will surely come—when I will have my revenge."