"Well—I'm—damned!"
Then hope sprang into his eyes; filled his bosom. There was a tangle somewhere, but he was getting his fingers on the ends: he needed to unravel it. Walking over to, he sat beside his sister, who was sobbing on the sofa.
"Just hold up the water supply, old girl." He spoke with all a brother's brutality. "Turn off the tap, and talk coherently, if it isn't too great a tax. I've only got a man's brain, so you might make an effort and leave off conundruming. The way you women twist up things—well, there! You seem to take a positive delight in making troubles for yourselves and everybody else; put up obstacles and cry because you can't get over them. Why did you want to annoy Masters?"
"He insul—sul—sul—ted me so."
Once more a look of amazement crept on Dick's face as he repeated:
"He—insulted—you—so?"
The idea of Prince Charlie's insulting a woman was—well, he almost laughed as he said:
"For many weeks past he had not seen you; for many weeks past I have been his close companion. During all that time he has spoken of you to me as if you were a goddess, instead of being a little devil with a temper vile enough to provoke a saint. He insult you!"
Then he did laugh—heartily. Began to see that there was a path out of the difficulty—it only needed finding. Let him find it—that was all!
"He c—c—could not have thought m—m—much of me, or he would not have f—f—flirted with every girl on board."