"I want her," Everett answered quietly.
"What for?"
"I love her."
"Ye want to marry her?" muttered Lon vindictively.
"No," drawled Everett; "I am going to marry Miss Shellington."
"Good God! ye don't mean it! And yet ye take this case what's most interestin' to 'em? Yer gal won't like that, Mister."
"She loves me, and when I explain that it's all under the law she'll forgive me. There's nothing quite like having a woman in love with you to get her to do what you want her to."
"But her brother, he ain't lovin' ye that way. He won't forgive ye."
"He doesn't cut any ice," said Everett. "In fact, I hate him, and—"
"Be ye lovin' my Flea?" Lon's voice cracked out the question like a gunshot.