‘You here?’ he exclaimed.
‘Yes’, Mr. Egerton,’ said Marston calmly. ‘I’ve just come to pay you a little friendly visit before I leave the country.’
Egerton wondered what he should do. On the morrow he was prepared to denounce this man to justice—not openly, but through George Heritage—and here was the man sitting quietly and calmly in his house.
Egerton could not at once conceal his agitation at being thus confronted by his intended victim.
‘You don’t seem pleased to see me,’ said Marston.
‘Well, to tell you the truth, my dear fellow,’ answered Gurth, ‘I’m not. What have you come for?’
‘On the old business. Just to have a chat. When are you going to split on your old pal?’
Egerton’s face flushed crimson, and he stammered out, ‘I—I—don’t understand you!’
‘Tut, tut, man! Let’s play cards on the table. We’re not the raw lads we were in the old days when you were plucking your cousin Ralph.’
‘It’s a lie!’ said Egerton fiercely. ‘I never plucked Ralph, as you call it.’