'A friend!' said Jane contemptuously. 'Of what value to me would be the friendship of a man who steals from his friend when that friend is unable to lift a finger to protect himself?'
'Steals! steals!' echoed Dench; 'you take advantage of me as being a woman. I would reclaim only what is mine own, and that for the benefit of his soul. Beware lest you get hold of anything without taking me into partnership.'
'I do not fear you—bully as you are,' said Jane; 'for I know enough to make you shake before me.'
He laughed scornfully.
'What do you know?'
'Tell me this, Olver Dench: What happens when a man has betrayed his mates?'
The colour deserted his cheeks.
'You have said enough to let me see that it was you who gave information. I have but to speak the word to David Nutall.'
'Come, Jane, let us be friends.'
'No.'