"Go, if you like!"
There ensued a breathless silence; his fat hand was on the door, pushing it already, when a stifled exclamation from her halted him. After a moment he turned warily.
"I'm desperate," he said. "Pay, or I show you up. Which is it to be?"
"I—how do I know? What proof have I that you can damage me——"
He came all the way back, moistening his thick lips, for he had played his last card at the door; and, for a second, he supposed that he was beaten.
"Now, see here," he said, "I don't want to do this. I don't want to smash anybody, let alone a woman. But, by God! I'll do it if you don't come across. So make up your mind, Elena."
She strove to sustain his gaze and he leered at her. Finally he sat down beside her:
"I said I wouldn't give you any proofs. But I guess I will. I'll prove to you that I've got you good and plenty, little lady. Will that satisfy you?"
"Prove it!" she strove to say; but her lips scarcely obeyed her.
"All right. Do you remember one evening, just before Christmas, when you and your husband had been on the outs?"