“No, no,” said Stratton slowly.
“Are you mad, or have you been drinking?” cried Guest angrily, and he caught his friend by the shoulders.
“Don’t—don’t, Percy,” said Stratton feebly. “I’m not myself to-night. I—I—Why did you come?” he asked vacantly.
“Because it was life or death to me,” cried Guest. “I couldn’t say a word to you then, but I’ve loved little Edie ever since we first met. You were my friend, Mal, and I couldn’t say anything when I saw you two so thick together. She seemed to prefer your society to mine, and she had a right to choose. I’ve been half-mad to-day since you told me you cared for her, but I couldn’t sleep till I knew all the worst.”
“I told you I loved Edith Perrin?”
“Yes! Are you so stupefied by what you have taken that you don’t know what you are saying?”
“I know what I am saying,” said Stratton, almost in a whisper. “I never told you that.”
“I swear you did, man. You don’t know what you say.”
“I told you I was going to see the admiral. All a mistake—your’s—mine,” he gasped feebly.
“What do you mean?” cried Guest, shaking him.