halves. I am determined that now, before we part, you shall swear to keep my secret, or I will put you in a convict's cell."
"But think of the injury you would"—
"Enough! Words are useless. You must choose now."
Her handsome face was perfectly impassive; a cruel, sarcastic smile played about her lips.
She had been watching his features narrowly, for the pallor and the nervous twitchings clearly showed the agitation her decisive alternative had produced. Passionate love for Hugh Trethowen had alone prompted her, for she saw that if this man gave him an insight into her past he would turn his back upon her in ineffable disgust. Hers was a Bohemian nature, and she had led a strangely adventurous life, though few were aware of it. Her early education in the Montmartre quarter of Paris had effectually eradicated any principles she might have originally possessed, and up to this time she had enjoyed the freedom of being absolute mistress of her actions. Yet, strangely enough, now she had met Hugh, her admiration of his character had quickly developed into that intense affection which is frequently characteristic of women of her temperament, and she discovered that his love was indispensable to her existence. There was but one barrier to her happiness. Egerton knew more of the unpleasant incidents of her life than was desirable, and for the protection of her own interests she was compelled to silence him.
From the expression on his face she felt she had gained her point, and rose with a feeling of absolute triumph.
"Now," she demanded impatiently, "what is your decision?"
