Julian turned with a quick, startled movement, and then paused.
“All his interest?” he repeated. “He wanted a thousand to pay for a Scotch moor, that was all.”
“He sold every share he had yesterday,” returned Ramsay. “Curious coincidence.”
“You don’t mean to tell me——”
The eyes of the two men met; and Julian sprang to his feet with a fierce imprecation.
“He knew it?” he cried; “he knew it, and kept it dark, that he might keep the market to himself? It isn’t possible, Ramsay; it isn’t possible!”
“Nothing is impossible,” returned Ramsay quietly.
A savage, hissing breath came from between Julian’s set teeth, and he seemed literally alive with passion. Without a word he stretched out his hand for his hat and turned to leave the room. Ramsay quietly intercepted his passage.
“Where are you going?” he said.