Do you live alone?'
'I do not,' she made answer with an effort.
'Who dwells here besides?'
'One--it is no matter who. You had best begone, or he may find you here.
Why do you linger?'
'For warmth,' he replied, spreading out his hands before the fire. 'For
warmth. You are rich, perhaps?'
'Very,' she said faintly. 'Very rich. No doubt I am very rich.'
'At least you are not penniless. You have some money. You were making
purchases to-night.'
'I have a little left. It is but a few shillings.'
'Give me your purse. You had it in your hand at the door. Give it to
me.'
She stepped to the table and laid it down. He reached across, took it
up, and told the contents into his hand. As he was counting them, she
listened for a moment, and sprung towards him.
'Take what there is, take all, take more if more were there, but go
before it is too late. I have heard a wayward step without, I know full
well. It will return directly. Begone.'
'What do you mean?'
'Do not stop to ask. I will not answer. Much as I dread to touch you, I
would drag you to the door if I possessed the strength, rather than you
should lose an instant. Miserable wretch! fly from this place.
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