A few seconds later he got to his feet. "Keep him just as he is! I must go and fetch something. Don't let him speak!"
He was gone with the words, and Tommy, still feeling bewildered and rather sick, knelt in silence and waited for his return.
But almost immediately the husky voice spoke again. "Tommy—that you?"
Tommy felt himself begin to tremble again and put forth all his strength to keep himself in hand. "Don't talk!" he said gruffly.
"I've—got to talk." The words came, forced by angry obstinacy. "It's no—damnation—good. I'm done for—beaten on the straight. And that hell hound Monck—"
"Damn you! Be quiet!" said Tommy in a furious undertone.
"I won't be quiet. I'll have—my turn—such as it is. Where's Stella? Fetch Stella! I've a right to that anyway. She is—my lawful wife!"
"I can't fetch her," said Tommy.
"All right then. You can tell her—from me—that she's been duped—as I was. She's mine—not his. He came—with that cock-and-bull story about—the other woman. But she was dead—I've found out since. She was dead—and he knew it. He faked up the tale—to suit himself. He wanted her—the damn skunk—wanted her—and cheated—cheated—to get her."
He stopped, checked by a terrible gurgle in the throat. Tommy, white with passion, broke fiercely into his gasping silence.