Haworth's

by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Haworth's clenched fist fell upon the table with a force which made the keys ring.

"Blast you!" he said. "You're nigher to her now than me—now!"

"Then," Murdoch answered, "you may give up."

"Give up!" was the reply. "Nay, not that, my lad. I've not come to that yet."

Then his rage broke forth again.

"You to be going there on the quiet!" he cried. "You to be making way with her, and finding her easy to please, and priding yourself on it!"

"I please her!" said Murdoch. "I pride myself!"

He got up and began to pace the floor.

"You're mad!" he said. "Mad!"