"I once lost £100,000 on a similar insecurity, Mrs. Carey."
"You wish to ruin my prospects in life, Mr. Jawkins."
"I am obliged to consider my own."
"You are rich and prosperous already. I have nothing but my personal attractions, as you well know, and you seek to rob me of the prize when just within my grasp."
"You are unjust, madam." He shuffled his feet uneasily. It was against his grain as a man to see this peerless beauty in trouble and refuse her petition. Her arms apparent in all their white perfection of roundness, her exquisitely poised head and lovely face expressed the poignancy of dismay.
"Is there no security that you will accept, Mr. Jawkins?"
Jarley Jawkins looked at her, and felt the blood surge in his veins. Mrs. Carey had always exercised a powerful charm over him. He regarded her as the most beautiful woman of his acquaintance. Ordinarily the thought of suggesting anything compromising would not have occurred to him, but her marvellous beauty presenting itself in the same scale with her necessity, blinded him to prudence and every other consideration but passion. It was a contest between the cunning of a luscious beauty striving for a secret end and the self-interest of a mercenary man. The victory was hers, though scarcely by the means she had expected.
"Yes, Mrs. Carey, there is one." He leered at her a little.
"And that?"
"Yourself." He spoke distinctly and resolutely, for he was a man who faltered at nothing when his mind was made up, but she could see him tremble.