Although Pansy trembled inwardly at his bold threat, she determined that she would not yield to his demands.
“Once own that I am Pansy Laurens, and all is lost. I could never satisfy the man’s rapacity, and he would only betray me at last. Besides, he cannot prove my identity; he only suspects it,” she thought wisely; and, to his angry astonishment, she laughed scornfully.
“Why are you laughing?” he demanded; and, lifting her bright face defiantly, she answered:
“I am pleased because I see a policeman up there near the governor’s mansion, and I am going to give you into custody for annoying me.”
He followed her glance and grew pale as he saw the blue-coated custodian of the law pacing along the walk she indicated. Stopping short, he growled fiercely:
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“You will see, my clever friend,” she replied airily, also stopping and looking up at him again so coolly that he wondered at her unconcern.
“You had better leave me,” she said calmly, though white to the lips with anger. “I do not desire to have you arrested, for I know my husband would have you punished to the full extent of the law. He knows all about my past, and your talk of betrayal is the senseless chatter of a madman. Will you go now, or shall I call the policeman, or any of these gentlemen sitting around?”
He was baffled by her cool assumption of fearlessness, for he did not dare to drive her to bay. No one knew so well as himself what cause he had to dread exposure.
Glowering fiercely on her from his small, beady black eyes, he hissed, low and threateningly: