Brindell looked at him, at first astonished, and then very angry.
“Who the devil is this?” he asked, turning to Rosaleen.
“An old, old friend,” said Rosaleen, hastily. “Excuse me, please, Mr. Brindell, just for a few minutes?”
“Come on! Put on your hat and coat!” said Landry.
Rosaleen shook her head.
“No; we can talk in here,” she said, and led him into the back room. “Mr. Landry, what made you so rude?”
“Do you borrow money from that—popinjay?” he demanded.
He was glad to see the shocked colour that rose in her thin face; he wanted and intended to be outrageous.
“You—haven’t any right to talk like that!” she cried. “I——”
“I have. I’ve lent you money. You’re under obligations to me.... I won’t have you doing this! Haven’t you any pride? Any self-respect?”