He spoke under his breath. No one in the room beyond could hear a word, but it was a thousand times more terrible than if he had roared at the top of his voice, as was his custom when things went amiss.
"You've ruined me!" he repeated. "You! A chap that's played gentleman manufacturer; a chap I've laughed at; a chap I took in to serve my own ends—ruined me, by——"
"Oh, no, no!" the culprit cried out. "My dear fellow, no! No, no!"
Haworth strode up to him and struck his fist against the table.
"Have I ever told you a word of what was going on?" he demanded.
"No! No!"
"Have I ever let you be aught but what I swore you should be at th' first—a fellow to play second fiddle and do what he was told?"
Ffrench turned pale. A less hard nature would have felt more sympathy for him.
"No," he answered, "you have not," and his chin dropped on his breast.