"Thank you for your kindness; but I must run to the parsonage; I really must see my aunt."
"Then I will send her to Polzeath to you when she returns. She will keep; she's stale enough."
"I would spare her the trouble."
"Pshaw! She shall do what I will. Now see—I am wearied to death with solitude and sickness. Come, amuse yourself, if you will, with insulting me—calling me what you like; I do not mind, so long as you remain."
"I have no desire whatever, Captain Coppinger, to insult you and call you names."
"You insult me by standing there holding the latch—standing on one foot, as if afraid to sully the soles by treading my tainted floor. Is it not an insult that you refuse to come in? Is it not so much as saying to me, 'You are false, cruel, not to be trusted; you are not worthy that I should be under the same roof with you, and breathe the same air?'"
"Oh, Captain Coppinger, I do not mean that!"
"Then let go the latch and come in. Stand, if you will not sit, opposite me. How can I see you there, in the doorway?"
"There is not much to see when I am visible," said Judith, laughing.
"Oh, no! not much! Only a little creature who has more daring than any man in Cornwall—who will stand up to, and cast at her feet, Cruel Coppinger, at whose name men tremble."
Judith let go her hold on the door, and moved timidly into the hall; but she let the door remain half open that the light and air flowed in."
"And now," said Captain Coppinger, "here is a key on this table by me. Do you see a small door by the clock-case? Unlock that door with the key."
"You want something from thence?"
"I want you to unlock the door. There are beautiful and costly things within that you shall see."
"Thank you; but I would rather look at them some other day, when my aunt is here, and I have more time."
"Will you refuse me even the pleasure of letting you see what is there?"
"If you particularly desire it, Captain Coppinger, I will peep in—but only peep."
