She has stepped back. ''Dear girl,'' she says, dropping her voice, gazing quickly at Richard, ''do you despise me so, for letting them take you?''
''I despise you,'' I say, ''for bringing me back!''
She stares, then almost smiles. She gestures about the room. ''Don''t think,'' she says, with a look of amazement, ''I mean for you to keep at Lant Street! Dear girl, dear girl, you was taken from here so they might make a lady of you. And a lady they''ve made you— a perfect jewel! Don''t think I shall have you wasting your shine in this low place. Haven''t I said? I want you by me, dear, when I am rich. Don''t ladies take companions? Only wait till I have got my hands on your fortune; then see if we don''t take the grandest house in London! See what carriages and footmen we''ll have then!—what pearls, what dresses!''
She puts her hands on me again. She means to kiss me, to eat me. I rise and shake her off. ''You don''t think,'' I say, ''I shall stay with you, when your wretched scheme is done?''
''What else?'' she says. ''Who ought to have you, if not me? It was fortune took you; it is me that has got you back. I been working it over for seventeen years. I been plotting and thinking on this, every minute since I first laid you in the poor lady''s arms. I been looking at Sue—''