“What I was doing is my business,” answered Clare. “Had I known you for an honest man I would not have listened to yours. I should have had no right.”
“You tell me to my face I’m a swindler!” said Marway between his teeth, letting out a blow at Clare, which he cleverly dodged.
“I do!”
“I don’t know what you mean, but bitterly shall you repent your insolence, you prying rascal! This is your sweet revenge for a blow you had not the courage to return!—to dog me and get hold of my affairs! You cur! You’re going to turn informer next, of course, and bear false witness against your neighbour! You shall repent it, I swear!”
“Will it be bearing false witness to say that Miss Shotover does not know the sort of man who wants to marry her? Does she know why he wants to marry her? Does her father know that you are in the clutches of a money-lender?”
Marway caught hold of Clare and threatened to kill him. Clare did not flinch, and he calmed down a little.
“What do you want to square it?” he growled.
“I don’t understand you,” returned Clare.
“What’s the size of your tongue-plaster?”
“I don’t know much slang.”