"You have seen Nita? When?" queried Farnham, with a grin.
"In London, barely a week ago—our first interview since our marriage-night—and I sailed the next day to see you."
"To see me! Why? If she repudiates the marriage, what can I do?" insolently.
"You can remove the mysterious barrier you have placed between my darling's heart and mine. She loves me, but she fears you with a strange, unreasoning terror. She has told me that only for the report of your death she would not have married me at all. My God, sir! what is the secret of your malign power over the hapless girl?" demanded the unhappy young husband stormily.
Farnham glared back at him with a savage fury, as though he would be glad to rend him limb from limb. He put his clenched hands behind him, as though to restrain the wild beast in him.
"So you acknowledge my power over your bride? You would like to know the secret of it?" he hissed in a voice of exultant malice.
"Yes," groaned Dorian in a hollow voice.
And for a few moments there was silence. The miser took a few slow, meditative turns up and down the room. Suddenly, he turned back to Dorian, and said:
"You wish to know the secret of my power over Nita? Very well. I cannot gratify you to-night, but I will appoint a day not far distant for the important disclosure."