"I don't presume to say," was the cool rejoinder. "When you have come fully to your right mind, you will know what to do, and how to go about it."
He crumpled the check, thrusting it into his pocket, and made two turns about the room before he said:
"I'll see them both hanged first!"
"Very well; that is your own affair."
He fell to walking again, and for a full minute the silence was broken only by the murmur of men's voices in the library adjoining. The Major had company, it seemed.
"This is 'good-by,' Ardea; I'm going to-morrow. Can't we part friends?" he said, when the silence had begun to rankle unbearably.
"You've hurt me," she declared, turning again to the window.
"You've hurt me, more than once," he retorted, raising his voice more than he meant to; and she faced about quickly, holding up a warning finger.
"Mr. Henniker and Mr. Young-Dickson are in the library with grandpa. They will hear you."
"I don't care. I came here to-night with a heart full of what few good things there are left in me, and you—you are so wrapped up in that beggar that I didn't kill—"