“Well, you keep out of it, you damned pedagogue!” Reid said, the words bursting from him in vehement passion. “This is my game; I’ll play it without any more of your interference. You’ve gone far enough with her––you’ve gone too far! Drop it; let her alone.”
Mackenzie got up. Reid stood facing him, his color gone now, his face gray. Mackenzie held him a moment with stern, accusing eyes. Then:
“Have you been over there spying on me?”
Reid passed over the question, leaving Mackenzie to form his own conclusions. His face flushed a little at the sting of contempt that Mackenzie put into his words. He fumbled for a match to light his stub of cigarette before he spoke:
“I played into your hands when I let you go over there, and you knew I’d play into them when you proposed it. But that won’t happen twice.”
“I’ll not allow any man to put a deliberately false construction on my motives, Reid,” Mackenzie told him, hotly. “I didn’t propose going over to let Dad off, and you know it. I wanted you to go.”
“You knew I wouldn’t,” Reid returned, with surly word.
“If you’ve been leaving the sheep to go over there and lie on your belly like a snake behind a bush to spy on Joan and me, and I guess you’ve been doing it, all right––you’re welcome to all you’ve found out. There aren’t any secrets between Joan and me to keep from anybody’s eyes or ears.”
Reid jerked his thin mouth in expression of derision.