“You should have continued your very apt quotation, for, if I remember rightly, a few lines below read like this:
‘I reck not, so it light well aimed—
· · · · ·
Spite then with spite is best repaid.’
I must confess that your creed is beyond both my comprehension and inclination; and, mark my words, you yourself will yet prove it fallacious by practical illustration.”
“I trust not, sir; the world would be a sad place in which to live if such passion ran riot in the hearts of all men,” Earle said, sadly.
“Let an enemy fall into your hands and see; let some one do you a deadly injury—let him crush your hopes, and every prospect for the fulfillment of your ambitious desires, and bar you forever from the one prize you covet most on earth, and then see if you will preach about love to your enemies,” Mr. Dalton said, with a fierceness that was absolutely startling, and Earle wondered more and more what possible connection all this could have with his hatred of him.
He was not conscious of having crushed any of his hopes, nor of hindering the fulfillment of any ambitious desires, nor of barring him from any coveted prize, although he thought Mr. Dalton was guilty of all this in regard to himself.
“Are you not doing that very thing now? Are you not seeking to wrest from me the dearest object which earth holds for me?” he asked, gently, and really pitying one who was so at the mercy of his fierce passions.
“Yes; and aren’t you longing to grapple me with those powerful hands of yours and crush me for it?” he laughed in return.