"We can talk without the use of names. What favour did she want?"
"She came to ask me to have the bank dividend declared, or they would starve!"
"That was no favour. The money is Major Dudley's. You have stolen it from them by withholding it. She came to demand her own, and her own was denied her, no need to tell me that."
Marston thought of the price he had put upon the dividend, and, while he longed to goad and torture his enemy to the utmost, he feared to tell him of that part of their conversation.
"No, she didn't get it!" he answered, roughly.
"Look at me, Mr. Marston!"
Little as he liked the command, Marston centered his ever shifting eyes upon Glenning's. But they would not stay, despite his will.
"You've been to Jericho," went on the even voice. "You came back last night. What did you go for?"
"What in hell do you mean?" he flared out, with a bluster. "I went on business."
"Your business, or my business?"