"What?"
"This de Vautrin business."
Quinlevin calmly stared at him.
"Yer feet aren't getting cold now?"
Harry took a pace or two, trying to find his words. And then,
"Things haven't been going right, here—since—er—since you left."
"I see," said Quinlevin with a shrug. "You and Moira haven't been hitting it off——"
"No. And it's worse than that."
Barry Quinlevin leaned forward, his shaggy brows thatched unpleasantly.
"What the devil are ye talking about?"