He
looked her slowly up and down with a glance of approval which
alarmed and disquieted her.
"Will you marry me?" he asked.
"No!"
His black moustache was pushed forward by some motion of the hidden
lips.
"Why?"
"Do you want the real reason?" asked Jocelyn.
Victor Durnovo paused for a moment.
"Yes," he said.
"Because I not only do not care for you, but I despise and distrust
you."
"You are candid," he said, with an unpleasant little laugh.
"Yes."
He moved a little to one side and drew a chair towards him, half-
leaning, half-sitting on the back of it.
"Then," he said, "I will be candid with you. I intend you to marry
me; I have intended it for a long time. I am not going down on my
knees to ask you to do it: that is not my way. But, if you drive
me to it, I will make your brother Maurice go down on his knees and
beg you to marry me."
"I don't think you will do that," answered the girl steadily.
"Whatever your power over Maurice may be, it is not strong enough
for that; you overrate it."
"You think so?" he sneered.
"I am sure of it."
Durnovo glanced hastily round the room in order to make sure that
they were not overheard.
"Suppose," he said, in a low, hissing voice, "that I possess
knowledge that I have only to mention to one or two people to make
this place too hot for Maurice Gordon.
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