She walked across the floor to a window, turned there, with her back to the light, and stood facing him, her arms folded.

“Good heavens!” he exclaimed, noting this attitude.  “Is it the trial scene from a faded melodrama?” She looked steadily at him without replying.  “What’s it all about to-day?” he asked lightly.  “I’ll try to give you the proper cues if you’ll indicate the general nature of the scene, Cora mine.”

She continued to look at him in silence.

“It’s very effective,” he observed.  “Brings out the figure, too.  Do forgive me if you’re serious, dear lady, but never in my life was I able to take the folded-arms business seriously.  It was used on the stage of all countries so much that I believe most new-school actors have dropped it.  They think it lacks genuineness.”

Cora waited a moment longer, then spoke.  “How much chance have I to get Richard Lindley’s money back from you?”

He was astounded.  “Oh, I say!”

“I had a caller, this morning,” she said, slowly.  “He talked about you—­quite a lot!  He’s told me several things about you.”

“Mr. Vilas?” he asked, with a sting in his quick smile.

“No,” she answered coolly.  “Much older.”

At that he jumped up, stepped quickly close to her, and swept her with an intense and brilliant scrutiny.

“Pryor, by God!” he cried.

“He knows you pretty well,” she said.  “So do I now!”

He swung away from her, back to his chair, dropped into it and began to laugh.  “Old Pryor!  Doddering old Pryor!  Doddering old ass of a Pryor!  So he did!  Blood of an angel! what a stew, what a stew!” He rose again, mirthless.  “Well, what did he say?”

She had begun to tremble, not with fear.  “He said a good deal.”

“Well, what was it?  What did he tell you?”

“I think you’ll find it plenty!”

“Come on!”

“You!” She pointed at him.

“Let’s have it.”

“He told me”—­she burst out furiously—­“he said you were a professional sharper!”

“Oh, no.  Old Pryor doesn’t talk like that.”

She came toward him.  “He told me you were notorious over half of Europe,” she cried vehemently.  “He said he’d arrested you himself, once, in Rotterdam, for smuggling jewels, and that you were guilty, but managed to squirm out of it.  He said the police had put you out of Germany and you’d be arrested if you ever tried to go back.  He said there were other places you didn’t dare set foot in, and he said he could have you arrested in this country any time he wanted to, and that he was going to do it if he found you’d been doing anything wrong.  Oh, yes, he told me a few things!”

He caught her by the shoulder.  “See here, Cora, do you believe all this tommy-rot?”

She shook his hand off instantly.  “Believe it?  I know it!  There isn’t a straight line in your whole soul and mind:  you’re crooked all over.  You’ve been crooked with me from the start.  The moment that man began to speak, I knew every word of it was true.  He came to me because he thought it was right:  he hasn’t anything against you on his own account; he said he liked you!  I knew it was true, I tell you.”