"It will require neither dice-box nor cards," replied Beaumont, wincing at this home thrust, "I can dispense with those aids--and I can reduce you to your former position of a pauper and stop your marriage."
"Indeed! Then do so."
Beaumont was stung to sudden fury by the young man's coolness, and lost his temper.
"You defy me!" he hissed, advancing towards Blake. "You dare to defy me, you pauper--you outcast--you bastard!"
"Liar!"
In another moment Reginald had his hand upon Beaumont's throat, his face convulsed with rage, when suddenly Patience sprang forth from her hiding-place.
"Stop! He is your father."
Blake's grip relaxed, and his arm fell by his side while Beaumont, staggering back, fell into the arm-chair and began mechanically to arrange his disordered necktie.
"My father!"
It was Reginald who spoke in a dull, slow voice, with his face ghastly pale and his eyes fixed upon the cowering form of the woman before him.