“Clive, my dear boy, I must see my poor patients. There, there! go and wait patiently. I’ll come on to-night. You will see to matters, and perhaps I shall have a letter from Janet, and you will be able to write to her or go and see her. There, there! We are all straight again?”
“My dear old friend!” cried Clive.
“That’s right! I did see the lawyer last night. Go and be patient; matters are mending fast. One moment though. Clive, my dear boy, angry passions rise; you will not go and see your brother.”
“No, sir; he is keeping out of my way, or—”
“Eh? yes—or what?”
“I believe I should kill him.”