The old man rose to his feet, flinging his serviette aside.
"Then, by Heaven! I've done with you!" he exclaimed. "I made you a fair offer. I've only asked you to act like a gentleman, a man of honor. Am I to understand that you refuse?"
Drake had also risen slowly.
"I'm afraid I must, sir," he said.
"All right," said the earl, red with anger. "Then there's nothing more to be said. You can go your own way. But permit me to tell you——"
"Oh, don't, sir!" said Drake, rather sadly. "I can't do what you ask. God knows I would if I could, but—it's impossible. For Heaven's sake, don't let us quarrel——"
"Quarrel! I am as cool as a cucumber!" exclaimed the earl, his face the color of beetroot. "All I say is"—here a twinge of the gout checked his utterance—"that you're behaving shamefully—shamefully! We'd better join the ladies—I mean Lady Angleford——"
"I think I'll get you to excuse me, sir," said Drake. "There is no need to upset Lady Angleford. She asked me here with the very best intentions, and she would be disappointed if she knew we had—quarreled. There is no need to tell her. I'll clear out. Make my excuse to her."
"As you like," said the earl shortly. "But let me tell you that I think you are——"
"No end of a fool, I've no doubt," said Drake, with a rather weary smile. "I dare say I am. But I can't help it. Good night, sir."