“Except that I do not know how Mistress Atherton will take this story.”
Ralph’s face grew a shade paler yet. But his lips snapped together, though his eyes flinched.
“That is a threat, sir.”
“That is as you please.”
A little pulse beat sharply in Ralph’s cheek. He was looking with a kind of steady fury at his father. But Mary thought she saw indecision too in his eye-lids, which were quivering almost imperceptibly.
“You have offered me a bribe and a threat, sir. Two insults. Have you a third ready?”
Mary heard a swift-drawn breath from her father, but he spoke quietly.
“I have no more to say on that point,” he said.
“Then I must refuse,” said Ralph instantly. “I see no reason to give up my work. I have very hearty sympathy with it.”
The old man’s hand twitched uncontrollably on his chair-arm for a moment; he half lifted his hand, but he dropped it again.