“N-o, I cannot say that it is; but I do not think you would quite dare to murder me to get it. At all events I shall not give it to you.”
He looked at her with something akin to admiration on his face; he evidently had not expected to find her so resolute, but at the same time her obstinacy angered him.
“You think I would not dare to put you out of the way?” he repeated, savagely.
“What good would it do you? You surely would not accomplish your object then,” Editha strove to say, dauntlessly, but feeling inwardly very weak and trembling.
He saw the force of her argument and swore again, and, turning to her writing-desk, began turning over its contents.
Of course, he did not find what he sought there, and then commenced a general search of the room.
Bureau drawers, boxes, and every other receptacle that she had were overturned and thoroughly searched.
Her closets also were ransacked, and the pockets of every dress turned wrong side out, but with the same result.
Her jewel-casket stood on her dressing-case open, with all her jewelry nicely arranged on its velvet cushion.
Editha’s heart stood still as she saw him approach this, but she did not move or give a sign of the great fear that oppressed her.