"Harpy," he cried, and thrust his hands into his pockets, but withdrew them disappointed. He had already given her all the money about him. He tore the watch from his pocket, the ring from his hand, and flung them at her feet.
"Take these, and speak!" he cried, but Meg spurned them with her foot.
"It is not enough! Besides, I do not want jewels, but money!"
"You shall have money to-morrow. But do not keep me waiting, I implore you! I am mad, mad for the clue you can give me. Speak now, for sweet pity's sake! Tell me all you know, and if it is worth anything to me, I will reward you richly."
But the woman began to realize that her knowledge was valuable, and decided to sell it dearly.
"The gold first!" she cried. "You are a stranger to me, and if I told you the secret first you might go away and never pay me!"
Vainly he entreated and implored, promising money upon the morrow, but Meg was immovable. She was insensible to the pitiful anxiety of his haggard face. She obstinately refused his prayer, mocking at his impatience.
Donald Kayne, mad with impatient wrath, lifted his hand and struck her lightly across the mouth.
"Take that, you devil!" he cried hoarsely, and with a shriek of rage Meg sprung at him with a knife drawn.
"I will kill you!" she hissed, with savage fury.