“Oh, my God! I am peremptory! Speak, Miss Trail!, tell her whether I've cause to be peremptory.”
“Yes, yes,” the girl cried, shuddering. “Do as he says—Oh, for pity's sake, Arabella.”
Miss Bishop went off, leaving Mr. Blood and Miss Traill alone again.
“I... I shall never forget what you did, sir,” said she, through her diminishing tears. She was a slight wisp of a girl, a child, no more.
“I've done better things in my time. That's why I'm here,” said Mr. Blood, whose mood seemed to be snappy.
She didn't pretend to understand him, and she didn't make the attempt.
“Did you... did you kill him?” she asked, fearfully.
He stared at her in the flickering candlelight. “I hope so. It is very probable, and it doesn't matter at all,” he said. “What matters is that this fellow James should fetch the horses.” And he was stamping off to accelerate these preparations for departure, when her voice arrested him.
“Don't leave me! Don't leave me here alone!” she cried in terror.
He paused. He turned and came slowly back. Standing above her he smiled upon her.