I don't suppose they'd prosecute you."
"Prosecute me!" ejaculated Lizzie.
"For perjury, I mean."
"And what could they do to me?"
"Oh, I don't know. Lock you up for five years, perhaps."
"Because I had my own necklace under the pillow in my own room?"
"Think of all the trouble you've given."
"I'll never give them up to Mr. Camperdown. They are mine; my very own. My
cousin, Mr. Greystock, who is much more of a lawyer than Mr. Camperdown,
says so. Oh, George, do think of something. Don't tell me that I must give
them up. Wouldn't Mr. Benjamin buy them?"
"Yes, for half nothing; and then go and tell the whole story and get money
from the other side. You can't trust Benjamin."
"But I can trust you." She clung to him and implored him, and did get from
him a renewed promise that he would not reveal her secret. She wanted him
to take the terrible packet from her there and then, and use his own
judgment in disposing of it. But this he positively refused to do. He
protested that they were safer with her than they could be with him. He
explained to her that if they were found in his hands, his offence in
having them in his possession would be much greater than hers.
Pages:
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783