s to have escaped you. You have no claim on me. I consider my
suggestion an exceedingly generous one. You can take it or leave it.
It's all you'll get."

She rose.

"You insult me again," she said, in measured tones. "You are not wise."

He laughed easily.

"My dear Phyllis," he said, "you are adorable in a rage--but I am afraid
I must steel myself against your gentle exactions. Let me convince you
that I am really treating you in a highly preferential manner. During my
career three women have attempted to blackmail me. They were all
ugly--so they got nothing. You are charming--so you get five thousand
pounds. That is the most I have ever paid for my smaller indiscretions.
And I take the liberty of thinking it more than sufficient compensation
for the few erroneous impressions I may have allowed you to contract."

"You are making the mistake," she said, in the same controlled tones,
"of imagining that you are buying back your promises to me, which I can
quite understand that you value lightly. But I have told you that those
promises are not for sale. You have wandered from the real issue. You
are not buying the promises of your heart--you are buying the secrets of
your house. Are they not on a different scale of values?"

"You know nothing of my house," he returned. "You do not know whether
there are secrets in it or not."

"I don't know," she confessed candidly. "Possibly there are not. But I
am prepared to take a sporting chance that there are. And if I am
wrong--so much the better for you."

He was silent, looking at her thoughtfully, as if carefully weighing his
course of action.

"You were under the suspicion of Scotland Yard," she reminded him,
"until I told my lie. You will be under it again if I admit my lie.
Inspector Fay would certainly not rest until he had thoroughly
investigated your reasons for giving a false account of yourself. He is
by no means a fool--and I very much doubt that he is to be bought,
anyway so reasonably as I am."

Copplestone's face wore a strange expression. There was now no animosity
in it, but rather a mild resignation, in strange contrast to his
previous anger.

"So," he said, after a pause, "you would put them on to me again...?"

"I need not have taken them off you," she replied.

"I have offered you five thousand pounds for that," he said slowly.

"I have refused them."

"Think over it well," he advised her impressively.

"I do not need to," she returned.

Fo