Keith leant a little toward him over the table.
"You will accept it."
"He must hold a strong hand," thought Wickersham. He shifted his ground suddenly. "What, in the name of Heaven, are you driving at, Keith? What are you after? Come to the point."
"I will," said Keith, rising. "Let us drop our masks; they are not becoming to you, and I am not accustomed to them. I have come for several things: one of them is Mrs. Wentworth's money, which you got from her under false pretences." He spoke slowly, and his eyes were looking in the other's eyes.
Wickersham sprang to his feet.
"What do you mean, sir?" he demanded, with an oath. "I have already told you--! I will let no man speak to me in that way."
Keith did not stir. Wickersham paused to get his breath.
"You would not dare to speak so if a lady's name were not involved, and you did not know that I cannot act as I would, for fear of compromising her."
An expression of contempt swept across Keith's face.
"Sit down," he said. "I will relieve your mind. Mrs. Wentworth is quite ready to meet any disclosures that may come. I have her power of attorney. She has gone to her husband and told him everything."