“Neither my intention nor desire is to deceive you,” she replied haughtily; “but since you cannot talk without abuse, perhaps a week longer without your money will cause you to be more polite.” And she rose and made a movement towards the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he exclaimed roughly, rushing to the door and standing with his back against it. “I’ve come down here to be paid for the service I’ve rendered you at the risk of being prosecuted myself, and therefore you don’t leave this room until I have the money.”
His face was blanched with anger, and he spoke with determination. She had seen his countenance wear a similar look on more than one occasion, and knew that when in such a mood he was not to be trifled with.
“But you won’t let me explain, Percy,” she complained in a softened tone. “Do be reasonable.”
“I am. I want the thousand pounds you promised.”
“Hush,” she said, holding up a finger. “We might be overheard!”
“Never mind. Do you intend to pay me?” he asked in a lower tone.
“Yes, but not all now. I’m really hard up, otherwise you should have every penny I promised.”
“Oh, that’s nonsense. You can get money from that confiding husband of yours, if you like—”
“But I don’t like, so there’s the difference,” she interrupted. “I know my own business best.”