Jim waited till the door had closed lingeringly on the girl; then he stepped forth from his concealment and waited.
Abreast of him Elliot stopped; aware, it would seem, of the menace in the other man’s eyes.
“You wished to speak with me?” he began.
“Speak with you—no! I want to kick you.”
The minister eyed him indignantly. “What do you mean?”
“You sneaking hypocrite! do you think I don’t know what has happened? You threw Fanny down, when Lydia Orr came to town; you thought my sister wasn’t good enough—nor rich enough for a handsome, eloquent clergyman like you. But when you learned her father was a convict—”
“Stop!” cried Elliot. “You don’t understand!”
“I don’t? Well, I guess I come pretty near it. And not content with telling Lydia’s pitiful secret to all the busybodies in town, you come to Fanny with your smug explanations. My God! I could kill you!”
The minister’s face had hardened during this speech.
“See here,” he said. “You are going too far.”