His face for a moment was almost distorted with anger.
"You're living here—under this roof?" he demanded.
"It is no concern of yours where or how I am living," she answered.
"That's a lie!" Graveling exclaimed furiously. "You're my girl. I've hung around after you for six years. I've known you since you were a child. I'll be d—d if I'll be thrown on one side now and see you become another man's mistress—especially his!"
He came a step further into the room. Maraton, who had been standing with his back to them, arranging some papers on his desk, turned slowly around. Graveling was advancing towards him with the air of a bully.
"Do you hear—you—Maraton?" he cried. "I've had enough of you! You can flout us all at our work, if you like, but you go a bit too far when you think to make a plaything of my girl. Do you hear that?"
"Perfectly," Maraton replied.
"And what have you got to say about it?"
Maraton shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"I don't know that I have anything particular to say about it. If it interests you to be told my opinion of you, you are welcome to hear it."