I do not answer. We have slowed our step. Now we hear Sue, still breathing hard behind us, and walk on more quickly. When he speaks again, his tone has changed.
''You spoke, a moment ago, of torment. The truth is, I think you like to torment yourself, by prolonging this time.''
I shrug, as if in carelessness; though I do not feel careless. ''My uncle said something similar to me once,'' I say. ''That was before I became like him. It is hardly a torment to me now, to wait. I am used to it.''
''I am not, however,'' he replies. ''Nor do I wish to take instruction in the art, from you or anyone. I have lost too much, in the past, through waiting. I am cleverer now, at manipulating events to match my needs. That is what I have learned, while you have learned patience. Do you understand me, Maud?''
I turn my head, half-close my eyes. ''I don''t want to understand you,'' I say tiredly. ''I wish you would not speak at all.''
''I will speak, until you hear.''
''Hear what?''
''Hear this.'' He brings his mouth close to my face. His beard, his lips, his breath, are tainted with smoke, like a devil''s. He says: ''Remember our contract. Remember how we made it. Remember that when I came to you first I came, not quite as a gentleman, and with little to lose—unlike you, Miss Lilly, who saw me alone, at midnight, in your own room ..." He draws back. ''I suppose your reputation must count for something, even here; I''m afraid that ladies'' always do.—But naturally you knew that, when you received me.''