“Did you get me?—get out!” 106
Meredith fidgeted. Then to his horror Angela said slowly:
“I beg that you will stay, Mr. Meredith.”
The latter began to retreat to the settee. But he never got there. He felt a hand of steel grip him by the shoulder, and looked round to find a pair of infuriated eyes blazing down on him.
“You ain’t wanted here, you dirty tinhorn!” yelled Jim. He ran him to the door, opened it, and then shot him into the passage. When he came back Angela was standing exactly in the same place. Her face was white with indignation.
“How dare you—you brute!” she said. “I’ll have you put out!”
“Sit down!” thundered Jim.
It was the first time he had ever addressed her in that way and she felt decidedly uncomfortable. She dropped leisurely on to a chair.
“Now then, listen! I’ve got my wind back agin. Oh, I ain’t going to start—recriminations—some word, that! It’s plain business between me and you. In the first place, we’re broke. Did you git that?”