ng, sir, when you talk in one breath of Sir Percy
Blakeney and the possible destruction of his honour!"

But he remained apparently quite unruffled, and when her laughter had
somewhat subsided, he said placidly:

"Perhaps!..."

Then he rose from his chair, and once more approached her. This time she
did not shrink from him. The suggestion which he had made just now, this
talk of attacking her husband's honour rather than his life, seemed so
wild and preposterous--the conception truly of a mind unhinged--that she
looked upon it as a sign of extreme weakness on his part, almost as an
acknowledgement of impotence.

But she watched him as he moved round the table ore in curiosity now
than in fright. He puzzled her, and she still had a feeling at the back
of her mind that there must be something more definite and more evil
lurking at the back of that tortuous brain.

"Will your ladyship allow me to conduct you to yonder window?" he said,
"the air is cool, and what I have to say can best be done in sight of
yonder sleeping city."

His tone was one of perfect courtesy, even of respectful deference
through which not the slightest trace of sarcasm could be discerned, and
she, still actuated by curiosity and interest, not in any way by fear,
quietly rose to obey him. Though she ignored the hand which he was
holding out towards her, she followed him readily enough as he walked up
to the window.

All through this agonizing and soul-stirring interview she had felt
heavily oppressed by the close atmosphere of the room, rendered nauseous
by the evil smell of the smoky tallow-candles which were left to spread
their grease and smoke abroad unchecked. Once or twice she had gazed
longingly towards the suggestion of pure air outside.

Chauvelin evidently had still much to say to her: the torturing, mental
rack to which she was being subjected had not yet fully done its work.
It still was capable of one or two turns, a twist or so which might
succeed in crushing her pride and her defiance. Well! so be it! she
was in the man's power: had placed herself therein through her own
unreasoning impulse. This interview was but one of the many soul-agonies
which she had been called upon to endure, and if by submitting to it all
she could in a measure mitigate her own faults and be of help to the
man she loved, she would find the sacrifice small and the mental torture
easy to bear.

Therefore when Chauvelin beckoned to her to draw near, she