'By God! That may account for her manner to-night,' said Roland in a low tone, but not so low but that Litvinoff heard him, and read his thought almost before he heard his word.
'No, no, that is quite impossible; dismiss that from your mind. He would never be so base as to traduce you to her. Besides, where is the motive, unless he fears you? Is there perhaps some other lady in the case?'
'No.'
'He told you you were not worthy to go near Miss Stanley,' said the other, lowering his voice deferentially at her name. 'That can only mean one thing.'
'It may mean that he is mad, or—by Jove!—it may mean one other thing. But of that other thing I am as innocent as you are.'
If he was as innocent as Count Litvinoff looked, he was innocent indeed.
'Perhaps it will arrange itself. Quarrels about ladies often adjust themselves—or rather the lady usually adjusts them.'
'This,' said Roland, 'is more serious than most quarrels for both of us, and more serious than I can tell you; but I think I've troubled you enough with our family affairs. I'll say good-night.'
Litvinoff came down to the door with him, and helped him on with his coat. As he did so, he said softly,—