No rest will come till that is done."
"I must go," cried Podge Byerly. "You terrify me."
"Tell me," asked Duff Salter in a low tone, "has Andrew Zane been seen
by Agnes Wilt since he escaped?"
"Don't ask me."
"Tell me, and I will give you a sum of money which shall get you rest
for years. Open your mind to me, and I will send you to Europe. Your
brother shall be my brother; your invalid mother will receive abundant
care. I will even ask you to love me!"
An instant's blushes overspread Podge's worn, pale face, and an
expression of restful joy. Then recurring indignation made her pale
again to the very roots of her golden hair.
"Betray my friend!" she exclaimed. "Never, till she will give me leave."
"I have lost my confidence in you both," said Duff Salter coldly,
releasing Podge's arm. "You have been so indifferent in the face of this
crime and public opinion as to receive your lovers in the very parlor
where my dead friend lay. Agnes has admitted it by silence. I have seen
your lover releasing you from his arms. Miss Byerly, I thought you
artless, even in your arts, and only the dupe, perhaps, of a stronger
woman. I hoped that you were pure. You have made me a man of suspicion
and indifference again." His face grew graver, yet unbelieving and hard.
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