She rolled off the sofa on to the floor and lay there, writhing in
abject terror, looking in the shadow of the table, where her long
lithe form was twisting about in its robe of yellow barred with black,
more like one of the great cats from which she took her name than a
human being. "Spare me," she gasped, "spare me, I don't want to die. I
swear that I will never meddle with you again."
"I don't want your oaths, woman," answered the stern form bending over
her with the knife. "A liar you have been from your youth up, and a
liar you will be to the end. Do you understand what I have said?"
"Yes, yes, I understand. Ah! put away that knife, I can't bear it! It
makes me sick."
"Very well then, get up."
She tried to rise, but her knees would not support her, so she sat
upon the floor.
"Now," said Mr. Quest, replacing the knife upon the mantelpiece, "here
is your money," and he flung a bag of notes and gold into her lap, at
which she clutched eagerly and almost automatically. "The two hundred
and fifty pounds will be paid on the 1st of January in each year, and
not one farthing more will you get from me. Remember what I tell you,
try to molest me by word or act, and you are a dead woman; I forbid
you even to write to me. Now go to the devil in your own way," and
without another word he took up his hat and umbrella, walked to the
door, unlocked it and went, leaving the Tiger huddled together upon
the floor.
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