“You need not sit up, Samuels,” said Israel. “I will let Mr. Colman out and lock up.”
With discreet thanks the butler withdrew. Hugh threw his cigarette into the grate, put his hands into his pockets and faced his host once more.
“I consider my proposal is quite justifiable, Mr. Hart.”
“Are you aware what you are asking?”
“Yes. I am a poor man. She is rich. I owe you money. But still——”
“Money? What has money to do with it?” interrupted the Jew, grandly. “If you had the rent-roll of the Grosvenors it would make no difference.”
“If it’s a question of religion—I always thought your views were latitudinarian.”
“I suppose Minna knows of this?” said Israel, apparently disregarding the remark.
“Certainly.”
“Mr. Colman, I have no wish to wound your feelings. But I would sooner have my daughter dead at my feet than see her married to a Christian.”