He paused, but she made him no answer.
"No reason on earth why we should not. You could have done me a very trifling kindness. I could have served you vitally."
Another pause here.
"I can ascribe your folly to nothing but the most insensate malice. I shall take care of myself. You ought to know me. Whatever befalls, you have to thank but your own infatuated obstinacy for it."
"I have friends still," she cried, in a sudden burst of agony. "Your cowardice, your threats and insults, your persecution of a creature quite defenceless and heart-broken, and with no one near to help her——"
Her voice faltered.
"Find out your friends, if you have got them; tell them what you please; and, if it is worth while, I will contradict your story. I'll fight your friends. I'll pit my oath against yours."
There was no sneer on his features now, no irony in his tones; he was speaking with the bitter vehemence of undisguised fury.
"I shrink from nothing. Things have happened since to make me more reckless, and by so much the more dangerous. If you knew a little more you would scarcely dare to quarrel with me." He dashed his hand as he spoke upon the table.
"I am afraid—I'm frightened; but nothing on earth shall make me do what you ask."