' He should sue for mercy, and I would grant
it--or refuse it--as it pleased me; but he should feel that he was in
my power; that my hand was finer than his, my strength greater!" He
shot a glance at her, and his great rugged face grew lined and stern.
"Where did you get those ideas? Why do you talk to me like this?" he
muttered, with surprise and some suspicion.
"I am not a child," she said, languidly. "And I have been living with
you for some time now. Sir Stephen Orme is a great man, is surrounded
by great and famous people, while you, with all your money, are"--she
shrugged her shoulders--"well, just nobody."
His face grew dark. She was playing on him as a musician plays on an
instrument with which he is completely familiar.
"What the devil do you mean?" he muttered.
"If I were a man, in your place, I would have the great Sir Stephen at
my feet, to make or to break as I pleased. I would never rest until I
could be able to say: 'You're a great man in the world's eyes, but I am
your master; you are my puppet, and you have to dance to my music,
whether the tune be a dead march or a jig.
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