"You dare to dream of forcing me to marry you?" His eyes have the glitter of steel.
"You need not give up the senate, but you must marry me, privately, and give your own child a name. Then I will leave, with the funds you will provide. You can separate from me afterward by the mere lapse of time. There will be no publicity needed."
"Indeed!" Hardin snarls, "A nice programme, You have had some meddling fool advise you; some later confidant; some protector."
"Exactly so, Judge," replies the woman, her bosom heaving in scorn and defiance. "We have lived together. We are privately married now by law! Philip, you know the nameless girl you have never asked for is your own child."
Hardin paces the floor in white rage. He gazes sternly in her eyes. She regards his excited movements, glaring with defiant eyes. A tigress at bay.
"I will end this here, madame! In two weeks Isabel Valois will be eighteen. If she is not forthcoming I will invoke the law. If I am forced to fight you, you will not have a cent from me. I will never marry you! I decline to provide for you or yours, unless you yield this girl up. You must leave the country before the senatorial election. That is my will."
Natalie faces her old lover. Tyrant of her heart once, he is now a malignant foe!
"Philip Hardin," she pleads, "look out of that window. You can see the house my child was born in—YOUR home, OUR home! Philip, give that child a name; I will leave you in peace forever!" There is the old music in her velvet voice.
"Never!" cries the Judge. "Give up the girl you took away. Leave at once. I will secure your fortune. You cannot force me. You never could. You cannot now!" He glares defiance to the death.
His eyes tell the truth. He will not yield,