Carl, what will the chief metropolitan
circles say then?"
"You hag of Hades! Ain't you afraid I will strangle you where you stand?"
"Not the least," folding her shawl deliberately around her, and moving
toward the door: "not in the slightest degree. Good-night, Carl
Walraven--I have said it, and I always keep my word."
"Keep it, and--"
But Miriam did not hear that last forcible adjuration. She was out of
the library, and out of the house, ere it was well uttered--lost in the
wet, black night.
Left alone, Carl Walraven resumed his march up and down the apartment,
with a gloomier face and more frowning brows than ever.
It was bad enough before, without this tiger-cat of a Miriam coming to
make things ten times worse. It was all bravado, his defiance of her,
and he knew it. He was completely in her power, to ruin for life if she
chose to speak.
"And she will choose!" growled Carl Walraven, in a rage, "the accursed
old hag! if Mollie Dane doesn't turn up before the month ends. By the
Lord Harry! I'll twist that wizen gullet of hers the next time she shows
her ugly black face here! Confound Mollie Dane and all belonging to her!
I've never known a day's rest since I met them first.
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