He looked in her face with a glazed and ashy stare. His hat remained on his head, overshadowing his face; and his boots were soiled with clay, and his wrapping coat marked, here and there, with the green of the stems and branches of trees, through which he had made his way.
'I see, Stanley, you've had a scene with Mark Wylder; I warned you of your danger—you have had the worst of it.'
'I spoke to him. He took a course I did not expect. I'm not well.'
'You've broken your promise. I see you have used me. How base; how stupid!'
'How could I tell he was such a fiend?'
'I told you how it would be. He has frightened you,' said Rachel, herself frightened.
'D— him; I wish I had done as you said. I wish I had never come here.
Give me a glass of wine. He has ruined me.'
'You cruel, wretched creature!' said Rachel, now convinced that he had compromised her as he threatened.
'Yes, I was wrong; I'm sorry; things have turned out different. Who's that?' said Lake, grasping her wrist.
'Who—where—Mark Wylder?'