though unconscious of what he had wanted to do, but he looked at her significantly, and the angry red mounted into his well-fed countenance.
“You always avoid me, Jessica,” he rasped. “Is it on account of my deformity? I know I am no pretty object, but if you will remember, I came by these⸺”
“I know—I know, Ignace,” she broke in hastily. “What is it you wanted to see me about? Something that was so important⸺”
“That I had to break up a nice little tête-à-tête between you and that Morley idiot,” he broke in, leering sarcastically. “It would have to be important, of course, to interrupt that. Your relations with this man⸺”
“My relations with this man are none of your business, Ignace Teck,” she broke in, “and don’t get the idea that you can order me around as though I belonged to you already. I don’t—and I’m not so sure that I ever will . . .” she paused and looked at him without speaking with her lips, but her burning eyes spoke the balance of the sentence.
“What do you mean?” he thundered at her. “If Valentine Morley has induced you to⸺”
“I need nobody to induce me to do what my common sense and my regard for the decencies instructed me long ago should be done,” she went on firmly, now that the matter had been begun.
“You promised to marry me⸺”
“I promised to marry you,” she confirmed, interrupting him again, “but the promise is not binding if you are a murderer. Nobody can be held to such a promise and⸺”
“How dare you say such a thing to me?” he interposed quietly, his eyes narrowing and the scar across
