Ingram at once replied in kind, and the bickering might have grown still more acrimonious had nor Reuben, who was handing the vegetables round at the time, called both combatants to order with a severity and a total lack of respect, that made each one feel himself a schoolboy again.
When dinner came to an end, Bart curtly informed Ingram that he would like to have a word in private with him. Ingram took him by the arm with bluff friendliness, and marched him off to the library, telling him that he should have as many words with him as he liked. “I know just how you feel about all this, my boy,” he said. “Shocking business! But Time the Great Healer, you know! Got to keep our chins up, and face the world!”
Bart removed the grip from his arm. “I don’t want to talk about that. How soon can I have Trellick, Ingram?”
Ingram pulled down his mouth. “Well, I don’t know. Of course, we have to get probate, you see, and then...”
“I know all about that,” Bart interrupted. “But I’ve got to clear out. I can’t stick it here. It’s all right for you. You loathed Ray’s guts. I didn’t. I got on all right with him. He was a darned good man to work for. I thought — I never dreamed — But it’s no good going on about that. I know he killed the Guv’nor, but it doesn’t seem to me as though the Ray I knew could have done such a thing! It’s made Trevellin horrible! It’s no use telling me I shall get over it: I daresay I shall, but I’m not going to stay here. I’m going to marry Loveday at once, as quietly as possible, and clear out. It was bad enough when the Guv’nor went: it’s a thousand times worse now!”
“Yes, but look here, young feller-me-lad!” said Ingram, with hearty kindness, “I can’t get along without you, you know!”
“You’ll have to. I’m through. I felt at first that I didn’t even want Trellick any longer, but Loveday — well, anyway, I’ll try to carry on, and I expect she’s quite right, that I should never be happy anywhere else. But I’m not staying at Trevellin, Ingram. I should go mad!”
“Now, now, now!” Ingram admonished him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You’re upset, Bart lad! You’ll see things differently in a day or two.”
“No, I shan’t,” Bart said, his voice cracking. “I shall only see Ray going up there to take a last look at the Demon colt, and — and — O God, what did he do it for?”
He sank down into a chair by the table as he spoke, and buried his face in his arms.