"No," snapped Jadby, with a fierce glance; at which, strange to say, the courageous woman looked cowed. "You shall speak as I direct."
"Are you on my side or on theirs?" Prelice asked Horace again.
"On yours, hang you," snarled the ugly little man. "And if I were not, you would find yourself in Queer Street, I can tell you."
Prelice took no notice of this outburst, but turned to the woman. "Are you against me?" he demanded.
"I am neutral," she retorted uneasily.
"I see; and Jadby there is an open enemy. Well, now that I understand the situation, perhaps you will let me know how Mr. Haken can be disgraced by you two, or you three."
"We can accuse him of murder," said Jadby, choking with anger at the exasperating coolness of the young aristocrat.
"Good. Go on."
"Of two murders?" spat out the half-caste.
"Better and better. Ha! I understand then that you, Captain Jadby, and you, Madame Marie, accuse Mr. Haken of killing Sir Oliver Lanwin and Steve Agstone?"