“Certainly, answer for what he does,” said Harry.
“For!—Phoo! Come, none of your tricks upon prepositions to gain time—I never knew you do the like—you’ll give me a worse opinion. I’m no schoolmaster, nor you a grammarian, I hope, to be equivocating on monosyllables.”
“Equivocate! I never equivocated, sir,” said Harry.
“Don’t begin now, then,” said Cornelius: “I’ve enough to put me out of humour already—so answer straight, like yourself. What’s this you’ve done to get the ill-will of White Connal, that’s just gone?”
Surprised and embarrassed, Ormond answered, “I trust I have not his ill-will, sir.”
“You have, sir,” said O’Shane.
“Is it possible?” cried Harry, “when we shook hands; you must have misunderstood, or have been misinformed. How do you know, my dear sir?”
“I know it from the man’s own lips, see! I can give you a straight answer at once. Now answer me, was there any quarrel between you? and what cause of offence did you give?”
“Excuse me, sir—those are questions which I cannot answer.”
“Your blush, young man, answers me enough, and too much. Mark me, I thought I could answer for your honour with my own, and I did so.”