"No.

We'll sit here.

I want to talk to you." And he plumped himself into a chair near by, his claw-like hands upon his knees, his keen eyes and beak-like nose bent toward her.

Mrs.
Severence visibly shrank.

She felt as if that handsome, predatory face were pressed against the very window of her inmost soul.
"You wish to talk to me," she echoed, with a feeble conciliatory smile.
"About your daughter," said Craig, still more curt and aggressive.