Renouard let the thin summer portière of the doorway fall behind him. The voice of Professor Moorsom said—
“I am told that he has made an enemy of almost every man who had to work with him.”
“That’s nothing. He did his work. . . . Like me.”
“He never counted the cost they say. Not even of lives.”
Renouard understood that they were talking of him. Before he could move away, Mrs. Dunster struck in placidly—
“Don’t let yourself be shocked by the tales you may hear of him, my dear. Most of it is envy.”
Then he heard Miss Moorsom’s voice replying to the old lady—
“Oh! I am not easily deceived. I think I may say I have an instinct for truth.”
He hastened away from that house with his heart full of dread.