Click, click, click. Mary went to the telegraphic instrument. She delivered the message by word of mouth, instead of taking it down in the usual manner with a pen.
"Gerald Heath, Overlook," she translated from the metallic language of the instrument. "Your idea is foolish. We cannot entertain it. Henry Deckerman, president."
Gerald looked like a man receiving a jury's verdict involving great pecuniary loss, if not one of personal condemnation, as he listened to the telegram.
"Zat ees what-a I theenk," remarked Ravelli, with insolent elation; "you ar-r-e one-a fool, as ze president he say."
Gerald was already angered by the dispatch. The taunting epithet was timed to excite him to fury, which he impulsively spent upon the more immediate provoker. He seized Ravelli by the throat, but without choking him, and almost instantly let him go, as though ashamed of having assailed a man of not much more than half his own strength and nearly twice his age. With Italian quickness Ravelli grabbed Gerald's knife from the desk, against which he was flung. He would have used it too, if self-defense had been necessary, but he saw that he was not to be further molested, and so he concealed the weapon under his arm, while Gerald strode away, unaware of his escape from a stab.
"He is-a one beeg bully," said Ravelli, with forced composure. "Eef a lady had-a not been here——"
"You tormented him," the girl interrupted. "I once saw the best-natured mastiff in the world lose his temper and turn on a——" She stopped before saying "cur," and added instead: "If he was foolish, you were not very wise to tease him."
"He is-a what to you, zat you take-a hees part?"
She bit her lip in resentment, but made no reply.
"Pare-haps he is one-a lover oof you?"