"We are not acting a play," he said doggedly, showing that her words had stung him in some degree. "The law is the law. I ask for nothing but my rights, and one of those I am willing to waive in your favor. You have my offer."
"And if I refuse it? If I let the house? You will not dare to enforce the restriction."
"Try me," he rejoined, again drumming with his fingers upon the table. "Try me, and you will see."
"If my husband had lived----"
"But he did not live," he broke in, losing patience, "and that makes all the difference. Now, for Heaven's sake, Mrs. Wigram, do not make a scene! Do you accept my offer?"
For a moment she had seemed about to break down, but her pride coming to the rescue, she recovered herself with wonderful quickness.
"I have no choice," she said with dignity.
"I am glad you accept," he answered, so much relieved that he gave way to an absurd burst of generosity. "Come!" he cried, "we will say guineas instead of pounds, and have done with it!"
She looked at him in wonder. "No, Lord Wetherby," she said, "I accepted your terms. I prefer to keep to them. You said that you would bring the necessary papers with you. If you have done so I will sign them now, and my servants can witness them."
"I have the draft and the lawyer's clerk is no doubt in the house," he answered. "I left directions for him to be here at eleven."