But I did not move.
"Cornelius," I said, "do you mean that I did it?"
"Leave the room," was his only answer, and he turned from me.
"Cornelius," I repeated, following him, "do you mean that I did it?"
"Leave the room," he said, without looking at me.
"Cornelius, did you say I did it?" I asked a third time, and I placed myself before him, so as to make him stop short. I was not angry—I was scarcely moved—I spoke quietly, but I felt that were he to kill me the next minute, I should and would compel a reply, and I did compel one.
"Yes," he answered, with a sort of astonished wrath at my hardihood; "yes, I do say you did it."
I drew back a step or two from him, so that my upraised look met his.
"Cornelius," I said, very earnestly, "I did not do it."
"Ah! you did not," he exclaimed.