Do you think I would marry you? Rather would I marry the pig in the convent. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. For she knew that men married to get something. He recognised this object at once. The bars dropped noiselessly and slowly down, till the chain tightened at the staple. I asked him—to take me away. But what did he know beyond these facts? Nothing, clearly. Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. So far she had not heard the sound of his voice. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head.
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