"So if we know he is our enemy we shall have to behave cunningly towards him; we shall have to be on our guard. To be civil to him to his face, and ready to tear him to pieces directly we get a chance."
There was so much excitement in her words and manner that Mr. Musgrave looked at her in uneasy amazement. She walked about the room restlessly, with a bright flame in her cheeks. Presently she grew calmer, and sat down by the table, on which supper was laid. There was trouble in her face, and it brought trouble into his.
"Take some supper, Lizzie; we will talk afterwards."
"No, we will talk now. I can't eat any supper. Mr. Sheldrake wanted us to go with him to some supper-rooms, but I wouldn't hear of it. Was I right?"
"Quite right."
"So that I've been twice right to-night, and this enemy of ours with the curled moustaches has been twice wrong.
"You seem to be very much set against Mr. Sheldrake, my dear."
"Seem to be! I am. I mean every word I say, and a good deal more. Tell me--do you like him?"
"He is my employer, Lizzie, and could turn us out of this house any day he chose."
"And could do many other hard things--and would, and will, if he's thwarted; so we must be cunning, and must enter into a league against him. Shake hands upon it." And she held out her hand earnestly to him. "Shake hands upon it!" she repeated, almost vehemently.