She laughed softly, and resumed the plying of the needle.
“Two millions would not satisfy me, Mr. Lynne,� she murmured, as if addressing the work she held in her hands.
“No?� he said, and laughed also. “You want it all, I suppose.�
“All—or none; but even all of it would not satisfy me—now.â€�
“Indeed. You amaze me. How, then, do you expect to be satisfied?�
For a moment she looked upon him between half-closed lids, permitting her marvelously speaking eyes to blaze at him and to suggest the words she did not utter; then she cast them down again upon her work and replied:
“The time has not arrived yet to—to tell you that.â€�
He laughed again.
“I cannot even pretend to misunderstand you, Mrs. Babbington,� he said.
She made no reply. He continued: