'You do,' said Hugo. 'You see, you hear, you breathe, but Bentley doesn't. Bentley has killed himself.' (Ravengar started.) 'So that if you have not my blood on your conscience, you have his. You tempted him; he fell ... and he has repented. Admit that you tempted him!'
Ravengar smiled superiorly. And then Hugo sprang forward in a sudden overmastering passion.
'Hate breeds hate,' he cried, 'and I have learnt from you how to hate. Admit that you have tried to ruin and to murder me, or, by G—! I will kill you sooner than I intended.'
He had no weapon in his hands; the revolver was in a drawer; but nevertheless Ravengar shrank from those menacing hands.
'Look here, Hugo—'
'Will you admit it? Or shall I have to—'
Their wills met in a supreme conflict.
'Oh, very well, then,' muttered Ravengar.
The conflict was over.
Hugo returned to his chair.