"After the manner in which your husband insulted me Saturday night—should I now make it possible for you to deceive him further about the state of your finances and bring about a reconciliation between you?"
His tones were cold, cruel. But she was too excited to notice.
"Surely you do not hold me responsible for Dudley's actions Saturday night. You know how much I appreciate all your kindnesses to me, and I will do anything if you will only help me out of this frightful mess."
He came closer to her until he was almost touching her and looked at her in a disturbing, calculating manner.
"You will do anything?"
In her desperation she echoed, "Yes—anything."
He studied her critically through eyes that burned.
"Will you come back here and dine alone with me—to-night?"
She took a step away from him and looked up at him frightened and questioning. His request—or invitation—seemed to be pregnant with sinister significance. But she thought of the two women waiting for her at home, the two instruments of cruel fate who would not be denied. She had not grasped his full meaning. And she took the plunge.
