"So we meet again, my beautiful, obdurate love."
Her beautiful blue eyes flashed on him with such supreme scorn that the craven might have quailed before them, but neither her anger nor the hollow, accusing eyes of poor Hetty moved him in the least. He maintained a front of the most insolent composure.
"I demand that you release me at once or you will suffer dearly for this outrage!" Precious exclaimed in a choking voice.
He smiled, and his insolent eyes seemed to gloat on her pearl-fair beauty.
"You amuse me, but you do not frighten me at all," he replied, laughing.
"And yet you have need to be frightened," Precious answered in a solemn voice, growing very pale as she spoke.
He did not notice the peculiar significance of her voice, but throwing himself back in his chair with an expression of arrogance observed:
"I am sorry you object so much to have me for your husband, for I have sworn to make you my wife or to kill you!"
The beautiful girl sitting close to poor, gasping Hetty, answered him with a look of silent scorn.