For a long time he held his peace, but at length he gave a smooth laugh.
“ ‘Stone walls do not a prison make,’ ” he said softly. “An’ I guess you three could heckle the guy that wrote that.”
“My favourite maxim,” said Mansel pleasantly. He looked across the table at me. “William,” he said, “we must do better next time. There’s a door behind our host—in the panelling. There’s probably one in each room. They open into a passage which—”
“Quite so,” drawled Rose Noble. “Quite so. I call it ‘The Listening Post.’ ” His eyelids flickered, and the blood came into my face. “And now, perhaps, you’ll let the geography stew and listen to me. I wasn’t at Oxford College, but I guess the notes I’ve sent you were plain enough.”
“As plain as my replies,” said Mansel.
“I didn’t hear them,” said Rose Noble. “But, now we’re so snug, maybe you’ll say them again.”
“The first thing,” said Mansel at once, “is to clear the air. This lady may be your prisoner, but I am not. One doesn’t imprison one’s broker if one happens to want some funds. I mean, that’s elementary.”
“Maybe it is,” said Rose Noble. “One don’t spoil his right hand either. But I’ve known a guy that kicked when he had two lights, as mild as his mother’s milk when he had but one.”
“I daresay you have,” said Mansel. “It takes some people that way.”
Rose Noble moistened his lips.
“I’m not out to break you,” he said. “It’s the goods that’ll get the rough.”
“Are getting the rough,” said Mansel. “And there again I advise you to watch your step. ‘Perishable goods’ have a market: but ‘damaged goods’ make a very different price.”
“They’re not damaged—yet,” said Rose Noble. “And I’m still waiting for a bid.”
Mansel raised his eyebrows.
“A few months ago,” he said quietly, “you stole some papers of mine. Give me them back, and I’ll pay you a hundred pounds and hold my tongue.”
I was aghast at his boldness and fully expected a truly dreadful outburst by way of reply. But none came: and after a little silence I breathed again.
Rose Noble lifted his lids and looked at Adèle.
I cannot describe the awfulness of his gaze. Hatred, malice and all uncharitableness burned in those terrible orbs. Themselves monstrous, their message was like unto them, and before its beastly menace my blood ran cold.
“You hear?” he said grimly. “You’re pretty enough to fool round, but, when it’s a question of paying, your gentleman-friend gets off.”
Adèle flushed under his tongue.
“It’s never been a question of paying,” she said.
“Big words,” said Rose Noble. “But they won’t pull you out of this mess. Your health and your name’s on the counter: and if you fancy either, you’d better trouble Big Willie to open his purse.”
“My name?” said Adèle, frowning.
“Your name,” said Rose Noble softly. “You see, I’m not selling to your husband. I’m selling to the man next door.”
Adèle’s colour came and went. She looked round swiftly.
Then—
“You mean—”
“That I have not asked your husband to buy you back. That I have ignored his existence from first to last. That he’s all sure and grateful that Big Willie’s hoeing his row. That Big Willie daren’t undeceive him … daren’t so much as breathe my name—for fear of its putting ideas into his innocent head.”
The brutal accuracy of this saying was to me like a buffet which makes the head sing again: and my brain seemed suddenly pygmy beside that of this terrible man.
Adèle had gone very pale.
“You mistake us,” she said coldly. “Our understanding—”
“So I guess,” said Rose Noble, as though she had not opened her mouth, “your pretty name is as much for sale as your health. Of course, if it isn’t bought in, your husband can have it back. But it’s not every fool, by ⸻, that’ll pick up a rotten rose.”
“I agree,” said Mansel. “In fact, all you say would be very much to the point, if I hadn’t told Captain Pleydell that I was in love with his wife.”
Very slowly the blood flowed into Adèle’s sweet face. She did not look at Mansel, and her eyes which were resting on Rose Noble, never moved. But, after a little, I saw that their focus had changed and that, though she was looking before her, she did not see, because she was lost in thought.
Rose Noble gave a thick laugh.
“I see,” he said smoothly. “And, of course, he couldn’t kick you—because of his leg. Well, well … And if you think that chokes me, you’re nursing the dirty end. I guess I’ve a sleeve full of trumps—but if you don’t want to see them you know the way.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to play them,” said Mansel. “You see, we don’t mind paying, but it wouldn’t amuse the lady to know she’d been bought.”
“That’s right,” said Adèle.
Rose Noble sat back in his chair.
“You mean she don’t care to be mortgaged outside your arms?”
“I didn’t say that,” said Mansel.
“I’ll take it as read. I don’t move around on your dunghills, but I guess a woman’s a woman whether she’s warming her maid or selling fish. This man
