“Yes,” she put in with a laugh, “and a rare time I had with that seven thousand too.”
“You returned and demanded more blackmail, and I had no choice but to give, and give, and give. In eleven years you had something over twenty-three thousand pounds from me, and you continually demand more. I believe you will admit that this is a truthful statement of the case,” and he paused.
“Oh, yes,” she said, “I am not going to dispute that, but what then? I am your wife, and you have committed bigamy; and if you don’t go on paying me I’ll have you in gaol, and that’s all about it, old boy. You can’t get out of it any way, you nasty mean brute,” she went on, raising her voice and drawing up her thin lips so as to show the white teeth beneath. “So you thought that you were going to play it down low on me in that fashion, did you? Well, you’ve just made a little mistake for once in your life, and I’ll tell you what it is, you shall smart for it. I’ll teach you what it is to leave your lawful wife to starve while you go and live with another woman in luxury. You can’t help yourself; I can ruin you if I like. Supposing I go to a magistrate and ask for a warrant? What can you do to keep me quiet?”
Suddenly the virago stopped as though she were shot, and her fierce countenance froze into an appearance of terror, as well it might. Mr. Quest, who had been sitting listening to her with his hand over his eyes, had risen, and his face was as the face of a fiend, alight with an intense and quiet fury which seemed to be burning inwardly. On the mantelpiece lay a sharp-pointed Goorka knife, which one of Mrs. d’Aubigne’s travelled admirers had presented to her. It was an awful looking weapon, and keen-edged as a razor. This he had taken up and held in his right hand, and with it he was advancing towards her as she lounged on the sofa.
“If you make a sound I will kill you at once,” he said, speaking in a low and husky voice.
She had been paralysed with terror, for like most bullies, male and female, she was a great coward, but the sound of his voice roused her. The first note of a harsh screech had already issued from her lips, when he sprang upon her, and placing the sharp point of the knife against her throat, pricked her with it. “Be quiet,” he said, “or you are a dead woman.”