"You are, then, determined to humiliate and to insult me; and to prove to you how great is my just indignation, I will dash——"
"No, no, no!" cried Vera, frantically; "for Heaven's sake, do not be so mad. Mrs. Hazeldine will never forgive me. Put it down, I entreat you. Yes, yes, I will promise anything you like. I am sure I have no wish to insult you."
"Ah, then, you will give that to him?" He paused with the vase still uplifted, looking at her.
Vera felt convinced by this time that she had to do with a raving lunatic. After all, was it not better to do this small thing for him, and to get rid of him. She knew that, sooner or later, down at Sutton, or up in London, she and Maurice were likely to meet. It would not be much trouble to her to place the small parcel in his hands. Surely, to deliver herself from this man—to save Cissy's beloved china, and, perchance, her own throat—for what might he not take a fancy to next!—from the clutches of this madman, it would be easier to do what he wanted.
"Yes, I will give it to him. I promise you, if you will only put that vase down and go away."
"You will promise me faithfully?"
"Faithfully."
"On your word of honour, and as you hope for salvation?"
"Yes, yes. There is no need for oaths; if I have promised, I will do it."
"Very well." He placed the vase back upon the table and walked to the door. "Mademoiselle," he said, making her a low bow, "I am infinitely obliged to you;" and then, without another word, he opened the door and was gone.