The ecclesiastic's lips trembled, and his pale face grew paler, as he stared on the young man for a second or two in silence.
"Marston," he said, "I don't know, of all men, why you should specially desire to pain me."
"Why, hang it! Why should I wish to pain you, Edwyn? I don't. But I have no notion of this sort of hectoring. The idea of your turning me out of the—my house—the house they have lent me! I told you I didn't want to come here; and now I don't want to go away, and I won't."
The churchman looked at him, as if he strove to read his inmost thoughts.
"You know that your going to the hotel could involve no imaginable trouble," urged Edwyn Carmel.
"Go to the hotel yourself, if you think it so desirable a place. I am satisfied with this, and I shall stay here."
"What can be the motive of your obstinacy?"
"Ask that question of yourself, Mr. Carmel, and you may possibly obtain an answer," replied the stranger.
The priest looked again at him, in stern doubt.
"I don't understand your meaning," he said, at last.