" "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. She addressed Capes as though she spoke to him alone. She crushed the letter in her hand. But I do not know you at all, in truth, and I do not understand why you do this. And yet, she would be easy prey in her present state of mind to any plausible, attractive scoundrel. "But vere'll be the use o' vinnin'? you von't live to pay me. ’ ‘Don’t need you to tell me that, Prudence Sindlesham,’ barked the old man, his glance snapping at her briefly, before resuming his study of Melusine, who, to Gerald’s intense admiration, was standing before him, glaring and stiff with defiance.
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