“No!” he cried savagely. “I’ll permit no such risk. I want no broker to deal for me. Lead me to the place—that’s all I ask.”
Tuke turned to his servant.
“Where is it?” he said, in a note of contempt, that he could not control, hardening his voice.
Whimple was about to answer, when a sound in the room disturbed them all. Luvaine broke out into a great oath.
“How did she come in? What does she want? Fling her out at the door!”
Sir David cried, “Damme, sir! you forget yourself!”
“Captain Luvaine,” said that gentleman’s entertainer, a very ugly expression tightening his mouth—“making every allowance for your condition of mind, I must ask you to leave the propriety of my servants’ behaviour to be judged by me.”
Even at that, the rabid creature could do little but pretend to control his passion.
“I will apologize,” he said sullenly. “Take any form of words you like from me; only do me the kindness to dismiss this person. Surely, sir, you can see how maddening is this interruption to me at the critical moment?”
“I can see, indeed, and regret it.”