“But I do,” raged Glyddyr. “Do you hear? I do refuse, and tell you it is a piece of insolent assumption on your part to dictate to me what I shall do.”
Chris was silent, and Glyddyr misinterpreted that silence in his excitement, or he would not have gone on with a passionate rage that was almost childish.
“Confound you for daring to come here at all. What do you mean, fellow? And now, understand this: if you intrude your presence upon that lady or her cousin again, I’ll have you horse-whipped and turned off the place. Do you hear me—go!”
“Parry Glyddyr,” said Chris gently, “at a time like this, every instinct within me prompts me to try and behave like a gentleman—”
“You—a gentleman!” sneered Glyddyr.
“To one who was that poor man’s friend, and whom I should fain have believed—”
“Curse your insolence!” sneered Glyddyr. “Leave this place. Go back to your kennel, dog. Don’t preach to me.”
“You have totally forgotten yourself, sir, and I can only attribute it to your having been drinking. I will not quarrel with you now, I once more appeal to you to go.”
“And I once more order you to go!” cried Glyddyr, whose mad rage for the moment rode over his natural cowardice. “What! You will not go? It is an insult to every one here. Be off!”
“Have you forgotten trying to turn me away from here once before?”