"
Mrs. Moreen demurred. "Surely you don't want to show off to a child?"
"To show _you_ off, do you mean?"
Again she cast about, but this time it was to produce a still finer
flower. "And _you_ talk of blackmail!"
"You can easily prevent it," said Pemberton.
"And _you_ talk of practising on fears," she bravely pushed on.
"Yes, there's no doubt I'm a great scoundrel."
His patroness met his eyes--it was clear she was in straits. Then she
thrust out her money at him. "Mr. Moreen desired me to give you this on
account."
"I'm much obliged to Mr. Moreen, but we _have_ no account."
"You won't take it?"
"That leaves me more free," said Pemberton.
"To poison my darling's mind?" groaned Mrs. Moreen.
"Oh your darling's mind--!" the young man laughed.
She fixed him a moment, and he thought she was going to break out
tormentedly, pleadingly: "For God's sake, tell me what _is_ in it!" But
she checked this impulse--another was stronger. She pocketed the
money--the crudity of the alternative was comical--and swept out of the
room with the desperate concession: "You may tell him any horror you
like!"
CHAPTER VI
A couple of days after this, during which he had failed to profit by so
free a permission, he had been for a quarter of an hour walking with his
charge in silence when the boy became sociable again with the remark:
"I'll tell you how I know it; I know it through Zenobie.
Pages:
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55