"
He remained standing upon the hearthrug. Ernestine returned to
the mirror.
"May I know," he asked, "for whose sake is this sudden anxiety
about your appearance?"
She turned away and sat in a low chair, her hands clasped behind
her head, her eyes fixed upon vacancy.
"I have been wondering," she said, "whether if I set myself to it
as to a task I could make a man for a moment forget himself - did
I say forget? - I mean betray!"
"If I were that man," he remarked smiling, "I will answer for it
that you could."
"You! But then you are only a boy, you have nothing to conceal,
and you are partial to me, aren't you? No, the man whom I want to
influence is a very different sort of person. It is Scarlett Trent."
He frowned heavily. "A boor," he said. "What have you to do with
him? The less the better I should say."
"And from my point of view, the more the better," she answered. "I
have come to believe that but for him my father would be alive
to-day."
"I do not understand! If you believe that, surely you do not wish
to see the man - to have him come near you!"
"I want him punished!"
He shook his head. "There is no proof. There never could be any
proof!"
"There are many ways," she said softly, "in which a man can be made
to suffer.
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