foot. Then he closed the door softly and walked slowly toward her. She stood like stone, without a quiver; only her eye followed the crooked line of the Cresswell blue blood on his marble forehead as she looked down from her greater height; her hand closed almost caressingly on a rusty poker lying on the stove nearby; and as she sensed the hot breath of him she felt herself purring in a half heard whisper.
‚ÄúI should not like‚ÅÝ‚Äîto kill you.‚Äù
He looked at her long and steadily as he passed to his desk. Slowly he lighted a cigarette, opened the great ledger, and compared the cotton-check with it.
‚ÄúThree thousand pounds,‚Äù he announced in a careless tone. ‚ÄúYes, that will make about two bales of lint. It‚Äôs extra cotton‚ÅÝ‚Äîsay fifteen cents a pound‚ÅÝ‚Äîone hundred fifty dollars‚ÅÝ‚Äîseventy-five dollars to you‚ÅÝ‚Äîh‚Äôm.‚Äù He took a notebook out of his pocket, pushed his hat back on his head, and paused to relight his cigarette.
‚ÄúLet‚Äôs see‚ÅÝ‚Äîyour rent and rations‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“Elspeth pays no rent,” she said slowly, but he did not seem to hear.
‚ÄúYour rent and rations with the five years‚Äô back debt,‚Äù‚ÅÝ‚Äîhe made a hasty calculation‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äúwill be one hundred dollars. That leaves you twenty-five in our debt. Here‚Äôs your receipt.‚Äù
The blow had fallen. She did not wince nor cry out. She took the receipt, calmly, and walked out into the darkness.
They had stolen the Silver Fleece.
What should she do?