"You little gentleman!" he said. "You perfect little gentleman—I've paid you for Peter, and for Belle. Here's my debt, with a hundred per cent, interest and then some."
The blow, hard and firm from the full shoulder, caught Kenyon on the point of the jaw, lifted him off his feet and laid him out full stretch on the broad of his back.
For several moments, breathing hard, Graham stood over him, looking down at the dishevelled, unconscious dandy, with his bad blood all over his face and clothes. His collar had sprung, his beautiful brown tie had gone round under his ear, his shirt cuffs were dabbled with red, one eye was bunged up and his mouth was all swollen.
Then Graham rang the bell, and while waiting tidied himself up in front of the glass in which he now felt that he could look.
The girl came in and gave a shrill cry.
"Just see to that man, please. Cold water at once will be the best thing."
He caught up his hat, went out, shut the door, ran down-stairs, let himself into the street and was out of sight and into a taxicab before the girl had recovered herself.
"Paid in full," he said breathlessly to himself, as he bound up his knuckles—"in full."