“Away from me?” said Rattray, through his teeth.
“From the lot of you.”
“I remember! You told me that night. Ha, ha, ha! You were in love with her - you - you!”
“That has nothing to do with it,” said I, shaking the bed with my anger and my agitation.
“I should hope not! You, indeed, to look at her!”
“Well,” I cried, “she may never love me; but at least she doesn’t loathe me as she loathes you - yes, and the sight of you, and your very name!”
So I drew blood for blood; and for an instant I
another came in by the window to murder me in my bed; no party to that, the first one nevertheless turned the outrage to account, wormed himself into my friendship on the strength of it, and lured me hither, an easy prey. And here was the gang of them, to meet me! No wonder Rattray had not let me see