"Carl Walraven, you would not dare!"
"Would I not?" with a harsh laugh. "We shall see. You don't know what
Carl Walraven is capable of yet, I see."
"Wait! wait! wait!" Blanche screamed after him, in mortal terror. "Tell
me what you came here to propose."
"A separation, madame--quietly, without _?clat_ or public scandal.
Accept or refuse, as you please."
"What are your terms?" sullenly.
"More liberal than you deserve. An annuity larger than anything you ever
had before you married me, a house up the Hudson, and your promise never
to return to New York. With my death, the annuity will cease, and you
will be penniless. I don't choose to be put out of the way by you or
your poisoning cousin."
Blanche Walraven's eyes flashed fury.
"You are a merciless, iron-hearted man, Carl Walraven, and I hate you!
I close with your terms, because I can not help myself; but I'll have
revenge yet!"
"And the very first attempt you make," said Mr. Walraven, coolly, "I'll
hand you over to the law as I would the commonest vagrant that prowls
the streets.
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