"My meaning was plain enough to the rest; surely I need not repeat it."
"Oh, I know what you mean. But what the devil is it to you? Is it your game to try and stop this marriage altogether? You won't, you know, so you needn't try."
"I would rather discuss family affairs with you when you're——" I was going to say sober, but checked myself and changed it to—"when you are less excited."
"What do you mean by that?" he cried, taking fire and speaking furiously. "Do you mean to insinuate that I'm drunk?" and he rose and came up close to me.
At that I guessed his motive by a kind of intuition. He meant to put a quarrel on me over this postponement of the marriage; and probably to let it develop into a scuffle, in which he would try to regain possession of the paper I had put in my pocket.
"I prefer not to continue the conversation now," I said coolly.
"But you'll have to, whether you wish it or not. I'm not going to let you ride roughshod over me, I can tell you. You'll just have the goodness to apologize to me for your insinuation that I'm drunk. D'ye hear?"
"I have not the least intention of apologizing to you for anything," said I sharply.
"Oh, won't you? We'll see about that," he cried, in an even louder voice; and then by deliberate intention I saw him knock over a small table on which a number of bottles and glasses stood. These fell to the ground with a loud clatter and crash, and the next moment a couple of servants came running into the room.
I judged that it was a preconcerted signal, for the moment they appeared he put his hand on my arm and, staring threateningly into my face, swore at me.