Fieldfare: “Crack a nut beneath my heels.”
“HEEL—singular. It is not a cocoanut that requires both feet.”
“Beneath my heel,” pursued Fieldfare with a nervousness which reflected itself in Mr. Aloysius Cartwright’s lick-lipping, collar-in-finger perturbation. “Choose, and choose quickly—life with me, or death, and death alone.”
“God help me!”
“Choose.”
“Then I choose.”
Like lightning she whisked round to make good, but the second man was upon her, and bound her wrists with cruel dexterity.
“Frank—Frank!” she cried.
Fieldfare: “Little fool! by now your Frank is in the arms of the Duchess of Cleeve.”
“It’s a lie!”